***
Phil Johnson had just started to lift his boat out of the water so he could winterize it for the year. He had noticed the two people going out and briefly thought that they were sure not prepared for the weather. Forgetting about them, he went to work draining the water and getting the boat ready for storage. A few minutes later he heard the boat returning and noticed that there was just one person on board. It seemed strange to him so he grabbed his binoculars and scanned the area. At first he didn’t see anything then he spotted a person bobbing in the water.
Who in the world would be swimming in this weather? Phil wondered, watching. He quickly realized that they were in serious trouble. They kept sinking under the water. He dropped the boat with the lift as fast as it would go and immediately set out across the reservoir at full throttle.
He lost sight of her for a moment when she slid under the water. He aimed where he had last seen her go under, put the boat in idle, and let it drift to the spot. If he hit her with the prop turning it would slit her open.
She broke to the surface, gasping, about twenty feet away. Without even thinking about it, he dove over the side of the boat and swam to where he had last seen her. She had slipped under again by the time he got to her. He dove down and could just make out her hair billowing up. He reached down, grabbed a hand full of hair and started pulling her to the surface.
She was heavier than he expected and it took a good deal of effort to get her head above the water.
“Relax. You’re okay,” he yelled at her as she struggled against him.
“Help me,” she screamed, spitting out water.
“Take it easy. Just relax and I’ll get us to the boat,” he told her and starting pulling her along toward the drifting boat.
It was further away than it appeared and he was getting tired from pulling her weight and the drain of the cold water. He finally managed to reach the boat and he had her hold on until he climbed inside and lowered the ladder over the side.
She was too weak to pull herself on board so he had to get back in the water and hoist her up. She immediately collapsed on the deck trailing the rope and jack. Phil climbed onboard, looked down at the taped feet and rope with the jack attached and immediately drove the boat back to the pier.
When they got back he left her in the boat, ran to the cabin and dialed 911. He explained what had happened and then grabbed several blankets and ran back to the boat. He covered her and wrapped one around himself as well. They were both shivering uncontrollably when the first ambulance arrived followed by several police cars.
***
The first officer on the scene came down to the boat and talked to Phil to try to find out exactly what had transpired.
“You are?”
“Doctor Phillip Johnson.”
“Alright doc, what is your part in all of this?”
“Mine? I saw two people go out in a boat and only one came back. They weren’t gone long enough to have made it all the way across the reservoir so I grabbed my binoculars and saw that woman,” he said pointing, “trying to swim. She was obviously in distress so I jumped in my boat and went out and pulled her in. Then I called 911.”
“Do you know who was in the boat?”
“No. She hasn’t said a thing so far and I have no idea who the other person was.”
“And she can verify this?”
“I would damn well hope so,” Johnson said.
“Alright. Just wait here.”
“Sorry, but I’m going to go change clothes. It’s a little brisk and I am soaking wet in case you didn’t notice.”
“Okay, but don’t go anywhere.”
“Glad to have been of assistance,” Johnson said and stormed off to changed clothes.
***
The EMT’s were working on the victim when the policeman walked up.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Jane Wilkerson. I’m with the IPD SWAT unit.”
“Holy crap,” he said, his eyes widening.
“What happened?”
“A guy stuck a gun in my back, brought me to the reservoir, took me out, and threw me in the water. Oh yeah, after he put an anchor around my legs. That guy you were talking to saved my life. He came out in his boat, jumped in, swam over, and pulled me out. Another few seconds and I would have been gone,” she told him.
“So he had nothing to do with it?”
“Are you kidding? I would be a floater if it wasn’t for him,” she told him. He’s a hero.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Within an hour the place was crawling with policemen. One of their own had been abducted and the perp had tried to kill her. It had been pure luck that Dr. Johnson had even been there today. He had intended to go hunting but changed his mind at the last minute.
Phil had changed clothes and he noticed a marked change in attitude from the cops. They came by to say thanks or just nod. Even the responding officer had a different demeanor.
“Doctor Johnson, do you think you could identify the driver of the boat?”
“No, not really. I just glanced up as they went out and then when they came back. When I grabbed the binoculars, I scanned the water. I didn’t look at the boat,” he told him.
“Did you see where it came from?”
“No, but I have a pretty good idea where it went after putting the woman in the water,” he replied.
“Really? Where would that be?”
“There is a public boat ramp a few hundred yards right around the bend. Unless he has a place on the lake or launched from a marina, which I doubt, he must have come from there.”
“Why not a marina?’
“Most are up the other direction and I doubt he would have wanted to have much of an audience.”
“Good point. Thanks, we will have someone check it out.”
“Flip?” someone yelled from across the lawn.
Phil turned with a puzzled look in his face.
“Is that you Marsh?”
“None other.”
“What the hell?” Phil said.
“I’m with the CSI. You’ve made the big time. You are now officially part of a crime scene.”
“Well that’s just ducky.”
“You know Doctor Johnson?” the officer asked.
“Hell yes. We grew up and went to school together. We were on the swim team. We even did some exhibition diving at the city meets from time to time.”
“So why the ‘Flip’ name?” he asked.
“Phil was the best at doing flip turns and it just became his nickname.”
“Was the doc any good?’
“Not as good as me, but he did okay,” Marsh said.
“In your dreams buddy, in your dreams,” was all Phil replied.
***
Dan, Garrett, and I were all sitting around my desk eating a pizza when the captain came over.
“Who bought lunch?” he said, pulling a slice from the box.
“Garrett,” I said.
“I like sausage on mine,” McGregor replied.
“I’ll try to remember that,” Garrett responded.
“You guys hear about Jane Wilkerson yet?”
“Who?”
“The SWAT team member.”
“What happened?” Dan asked.
“Someone abducted her, took her to the reservoir, and threw her in with some kind of anchor attached to her feet.”
“No way,” I said, stopping in mid bite.
“Absolutely.”
“When did they find her body?”
“They didn’t. Some doctor happened to see part of it, realized she was in the water and went out and saved her.”
“She lived?”
“Yep.”
“Does she know who it was or why?”
“She can come up with a description but the man never said why he was doing it. She did say that he knew her name so it wasn’t random.”
“This might be related to our other cases,” Garrett said.
&
nbsp; I frowned.
“How so?” the captain asked.
“Well she is a police officer. I know she wasn’t shot but still, it is another policeman being attacked.”
“That seems like a stretch to me,” Dan said, which was what I was thinking as well.
“Think about it a minute. Someone is killing cops. Yes they have all been shot at long range but no matter how you do it, dead is dead. Maybe she did something that made him want her to suffer a little more than the others. Think about that. A bullet to the head and it’s all over. Drowning takes time and is agonizingly slow. Maybe that was the whole point. Making her suffer like she made someone else suffered,” Garrett offered.
“Why not just shoot her or torture her?” Dan asked.
“Geez, I don’t know. Maybe we can ask him when we catch him,” Garrett replied.
“I think we need to talk to Jane Wilkerson,” I said.
“Do you think there might be a connection?” Dan asked.
“I can’t hurt to check.”
***
Jane Wilkerson was sitting up in the hospital bed. A nurse was scurrying around and frowned when the three of us walked in. I didn’t let bother me. I’ve been frowned at by some of the best.
“Jane, I’m Detective Bartoni and this is Detective Roberts. The other guy is Garrett Brock, Private Investigator.”
She looked questioningly at that part of the statement.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“Okay.”
Jane was a rugged looking woman. She’d obviously spent a good amount of time in the sun and her face looked like it was made of leather. She was also obviously a smoker or had been for some time. She had deep lines around her lips and her cheeks were sunken in. She wasn’t butt ugly but it would take a lot of work to change her appearance any appreciable amount. Her voice was as husky as a man’s.
“Can you tell us anything that would shed some light on what went down?”
“What went down? Some jackass stuck a gun in my back and threw me in the lake.”
“Yeah, we got that part,” I said, “What we want to know is why?”
“Hell if I know. He was just some nut job.”
“You were the specific target. You have to be smart enough to figure that out. This wasn’t random. Did he say anything that would shed some light on why he chose you?”
“Nothing. The only thing he said was that I was the easy one. I don’t know what that meant.”
“Easy one? In what way?”
“I don’t know. I said he didn’t mind killing a cop and he said he had done it before. He said I was the easy one, whatever the hell that means.”
“And that was all he said?”
“Just before he shoved me in he cut the restraints off my wrists and said he was going to give me a fighting chance and that it was more than I deserved. Some fighting chance. My legs were bound and I had a weight on them. He dumped me in the middle of the reservoir in frigid water. He was a real prince alright,” Jane told us, “I don’t know why he didn’t just shoot me and dump me in the lake.”
“He wanted you to suffer. He wanted you to have time to think about whatever it is he feels you deserve to die for. He is seeking revenge for something you have done in the past,” Garrett told her.
“That’s a crock. Every criminal gets what they deserve,” she said stubbornly.
“It doesn’t matter what you think. The only thing that matters is what he thinks you did to deserve your fate,” Garrett replied.
“I think he was just a total nut.”
“That part doesn’t matter. He has singled you out. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him make another run at you,” I said.
“I’ll be ready next time,” she said crossing her arms.
Boy, she was a real tough guy. I guess it was from hanging around all that excess testosterone that the SWAT team guys seem to have for blood. Whatever it was, she had a real attitude. Usually that would set me off but this wasn’t really my problem. We were just looking for any connection.
“What do you think?” I asked when we got back in the car.
“She thinks she is hot stuff. Posturing and all that crap,” Garrett said.
“Heck, I wanted to take her back out and throw her in,” Dan replied.
“Now boys, she wasn’t that bad but she did have a bit of an attitude. I guess it is necessary if you are going to operate in that environment,” I replied.
“A little humility wouldn’t hurt,” Garrett said.
“Not to mention a little makeup,” Dan replied.
“You sexist pig,” I shot back.
“Well damn Angie, it was like she was trying to make herself look ugly,” he said trying to defend his words.
“No use trying to save yourself,” Garrett told him, “You have stepped over the line my boy.”
***
When we were back at the station, I went to brief the captain on our progress, or actually in this case, our lack of progress.
“But she can give a good description of the guy.”
“That she can do. We are sending an artist to work with her tomorrow. Once we get that done we can put it out to all the units and on the news.”
“Any speculation as to why she was the one they went after?”
“Not a clue. She isn’t even a beat cop. Look captain, I know you want me to drop it but I still think someone is feeding the shooter information on the patrols.”
He just looked at me for what seemed like an eternity.
“Bartoni, I appreciate your thinking outside the box but on this one you are totally off base. No cop is going to help someone kill other cops. That just isn’t going to fly.”
“Alright, but I’m going on record as saying I think it is a possibility.”
“Get,” he said pointing to the door.
I guess this meant the discussion was officially over. I know it’s galling to think that something like that could happen but it was the only explanation that made sense to me.
When I got back to my desk, Dan and Garrett were in a deep hushed conversation. Now what? Telling dirty stories? Men are so weird.
“I take it the captain wasn’t too impressed with the report,” Garrett offered.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“And he still doesn’t buy into someone helping the shooter.”
“That would be correct,” I said.
“I think we should pursue it anyway,” Garrett replied.
“Uh, that is probably not your best course of action,” Dan warned.
“I don’t work for the man. I can do as I please. The worse that can happen is that he has me cut out of the loop.”
“Hey, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You’re a big boy but I don’t think you want to have McGregor come down on you.”
“I’ll handle the captain. He may not like it but he won’t shut me down. This case is too important.”
“Are you going to tell him first?” I asked.
“I think it would be better all-around if I just did it. Remember, it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission,” Garrett said.
I wasn’t so sure he was right this time. The captain doesn’t take kindly to people going behind his back. I honestly think it would have been better for him to just go and talk to the captain but that didn’t seem to be his style.
“Do it your way. It’s your funeral,” I heard Dan reply.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
We were getting ready to call it a night when Garrett came over to my desk and looked down at me.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I was just wondering if you would like to grab a bite to eat,” he asked.
I’m sure my eyes got wide. Was he asking me out? Like a date or was this another way of talking about the case? I thought for a minute. Look, the guy is good looking and pretty sharp. He hasn’t exactly hit on me so far and he didn’t break my rules about not dating a cop.
“Are yo
u married?” I asked.
“Married? Heck no. I don’t even have a significant other. If you’re not cool with this just say so. I just thought I could get to know you a little better since we are going to be working on this thing.”
“Okay. I just wasn’t expecting this.”
“Hey, it’s no big deal if you don’t want to. I won’t hold it against you or anything.”
“No, no it is not that. I just thought you didn’t like me very well. We have kind of sparred a few times.”
“Nah, that was no big deal.”
“I guess it would be okay. I don’t have any other plans and if you would like company, sure, why not?” I said.
Angie, Angie, Angie. What are you doing girl? You guys are working on a major case and you are going out to eat with him? What is wrong with you? Have you lost your ever-lovin mind? You never mix business and pleasure. Sure Dan and I eat together all the time but that is different. He is my partner and that is totally different.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Just something casual. How about the English Pub?”
“Sure. That sounds great. They have really good food,” I said, suddenly hungry.
“Do you mind driving? I’ve been eying your Austin Healey and would love a ride in it.”
“Sounds like plan. Let me just freshen up and we can take off.”
Freshen up? What the hell is wrong with me? I sound like some school girl. Freshen up. What a block head. Anyway, I finally made it back to my desk and we went down to my Healey.
“That is really cool. It’s in great condition,” he said walking around the car looking it over.
“I’ve spent some money on it but I still have more that I want to do. At some point I would like to get it painted but that will have to wait until after I get everything else done.”
“Such as?”
“A new top, the clutch is getting spongy, and I’m starting to get a small leak from the rear engine seal. Anything for a Healey is almost twice as expensive as other British cars. If you have one of these, they just assume that you have unlimited cash. I, however, do not.”
Payback (Angie Bartoni Case Files Book 13) Page 8
