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

by Marshall Huffman

  “Was this before his wife filed for divorce?”

  “A few weeks before. I’m pretty sure she found out and decided to divorce him.”

  “Why didn’t she just turn him in to the police?”

  “I don’t know for sure.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Dan said.

  “Well I think that was going to be her big bargaining chip. If he fought her on what she wanted she could use that against him. And of course, truth be known, rich people don’t like dealing with the police unless it is absolutely necessary,” Ross replied.

  “Did Jameson ever suspect that you knew about his escapades?”

  “Heavens no. I played it very cool. I wanted a witness.”

  “So you recruited Wilcox.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you never considered going to the police did you?”

  Ross didn’t answer.

  “No of course not. It was all about what you wanted. Money and a promotion,” Dan said.

  Ross just looked off in space.

  “What about his wife?”

  “What about her?”

  “Did he tell you he killed her?”

  “Good God no. Actually he never mentioned her one way or the other.”

  “Is Jameson very handy?” Dan asked.

  “Handy? Like how?”

  “Fixing things. Doing repair work?”

  “Good heavens no. I doubt he knows a screwdriver from a hammer. He never touches his toys. He has someone that even washes and waxes them. No, Jameson is all thumbs,” Ross told Dan.

  “Alright. Here is what is going to happen. You are going to be Mirandized again then you will be booked in. After that you can call your attorney and he can arrange for a bail hearing,” Dan said.

  “And the deal?”

  “Well talk to her just as soon as we are done here.”

  “When will I know?”

  “That’s up to her,” Dan told him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We pretty much had Jameson’s goose cooked but it wasn’t what I was after. If his killed his wife I wanted him to burn. What we needed now was to find the connection between the three women. Other than the fact that all three were either divorced or getting a divorce we hadn’t discovered a common link.

  “We are absolutely spinning our wheels,” I told McGregor.

  “You want help?”

  “I’m not saying that. I know there is something missing but we can’t seem to see the bigger puzzle.”

  “Okay. See if I have this right. Jameson’s wife finds out about the teenagers. She decides to withhold that to use against him if he doesn’t give her what she wants. While this is going on, she is abducted. Jameson doesn’t have a problem with that. Now his secret is safe and his wife is out of the picture. It’s a win-win for him. Just when he thinks it’s safe, along come Ross and Wilcox and he is right back in the thick of it again. They are easier to buy off. He gives them a big fat raise and a promotion. He’s happy, Ross and Wilcox are happy. The only people unhappy are us. Does that about cover it?”

  “Couldn’t have said it better.”

  “So, either he did it or had it done. Of course the other possibility is that we have some nut doing this and Jameson’s wife just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “You’re suggesting we have a serial killer and this isn’t the end of it?”

  “Well, it’s one possibility that you should keep in mind. You have to keep an open mind Bartoni. You don’t like Jameson or what he stands for but don’t let it taint your investigation. Work it like any other.”

  I’m sure my jaw dropped. He was right. I wanted Jameson so bad I could taste it and maybe it was clouding my judgment. Maybe we weren’t making progress because I was blind to other possibilities.

  “Okay captain. I’ll take another look at it.”

  “Good idea, now get out and get the bastard.”

  **

  The only good news we got that day was that Jameson was being required to put up one million dollars as bail. Of course that meant he only had to come up with one hundred thousand but his accounts had been frozen by the DA’s office. It would take him a little time to get the bail money. I hoped he was miserable.

  The thing I had to do was look at the case from a different perspective. What had led the cops to the barn in the first place? Why were the three women together? How could one person manage to subdue three people? I knew the barn was on abandoned property but someone knew about it or they wouldn’t have chosen that spot. The CSI had found tire tracks but they were from Firestone tires that could have been on any truck. The only thing they knew for sure was they were fairly new and had no unusual wear pattern. Big help that was.

  No fingerprints were found but all kinds of hair. Human and animal. It would take some time to sort it all out. It appeared that mice, cats, possums and who knew what else had spent time in the place. No foot prints were found which seemed odd since it was a dirt floor.

  Dan came back from booking Ross in and we sat and bounced ideas off each other. It was a feeble attempt since neither of us had a clue as what we were really looking for. We decided to start with Melody. Look at who, where, and what she had been doing since she moved out. And why had she moved out? Why not toss him out. That in itself didn’t mean much but it was kind of unusual. I know I wouldn’t have moved out. Let him find someplace to stay.

  “You know what the problem really is?” Dan said at last.

  “Let me guess. We don’t have anything to go on?”

  “Well, that too but I think it’s because you have changed your routine. You’re karma has been disrupted.”

  “My karma.”

  “Yeah. What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

  “What? What does that have to do with anything.”

  “What did you have?”

  “Toast.”

  “Ah-ha.”

  “Dan have you lost your mind?”

  “You usually have coconut donuts and a Diet Coke. I noticed the top was up on your TR6. You have changed your routine and your karma has been disrupted.”

  I didn’t know exactly what to say to him. Obviously the poor boy had lost his ever-lovin' mind. I needed to shoot him with a tranquillizer dart and get him to the hospital.

  “So what you’re saying is that if I put the top down on the car and had my usual coconut donuts, everything would be alright?”

  “Don’t forget the Diet Coke.”

  “Well, that goes without saying.”

  “Right. Then we would solve this sucker just like that,” he said snapping is fingers.

  “You’re scaring me Dan.”

  “I’m right and you know it.”

  “Yes Dan. Whatever you say Dan. Just sit down and don’t make any sudden moves. I’m going to call for the nut wagon and have them take you someplace where karma abounds. You’ll love it. Peace and love all around,” I replied.

  “That sounds kind of nice.”

  “And I’ll even come see you from time to time,” I told him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next morning I put the top down on the TR and parked in my usual spot. I got coconut donuts from the vending machine and a Diet Coke. I’m thinking this had better work or I swear I’m going to hurt that boy.

  When he came bounding up the stairs he was smiling.

  “Boy, are we going to make progress today,” was all he said before heading off to the break room for coffee.

  You have to like the guy for his enthusiasm if nothing else. Dan is a nice looking guy, smart and funny. If I didn’t work with him I would consider getting to know him better but I have this rule. Never get involved with another cop. I simply will not cross that line. In this business it is not only a disaster waiting to happen but it can be deadly as well. I just won’t do it.

  Dan came back and sat down still wearing his smile.

  “I see the top is down on your doodle-bug. You have had you
r coconut donuts and Diet Coke. Look out bad guys, Angie is on to you. So, what’s the agenda?”

  “The other two women first. I want to know everything about them. How the three ended up in that barn. Was there a common link and how did one person manage to control all three. Who owned the property? How did they know about the barn and that no one would come snooping around? We are going to talk to the cops who got the call to check it out. We need to know more about that. I was so fixated on Jameson that I didn’t do the preliminary work as well as I should have,” I told him.

  “I have their former husband’s names,” he said passing over a sheet of paper.

  I scanned them. Oglethorpe’s husband was deceased. He died last year in a single car crash. BAC was .22 so he was drunk as a skunk. Benjamin Scott was in and out of jail on several different occasions. Small stuff mostly but it had been escalating. His last one was for a B & E, which is cop talk for breaking and entering, and assault. He had been released from lockup three months ago.

  That would be our initial starting place I decided. It is a long way from B & E to murder, especially of three women at the same time, but stranger things have happened.

  “Let’s go talk to Benny Scott.”

  “He lives on Washington Avenue.”

  “Yeah I saw that. Better get a car with locking lug nuts in that area.”

  The 800 block of Washington Avenue was notorious for drug dealers, hookers and thugs in general. They could smell a cop a mile away. I considered bringing in backup but decided the less show of force would be the prudent way to go in a place like that.

  We parked and saw two different groups of teenagers giving us the evil eye. They didn’t seem menacing, just watching to see what we were up to. We knocked on the door and waited. I was just about ready to knock again when the door opened.

  The guy in the doorway was scruffy to say the least. He had left over food in his beard, hair that looked it was styled with 10w30 motor oil and a shirt with a saying so rude that even I blushed.

  “You’re the cops right?”

  “Good guess Sherlock. We want to ask you some questions.”

  “Look, I ain’t seen that bitc…”

  “Stop. Right there. You start cussing up a blue streak and I’m going to put you on your rear,” Dan interrupted.

  He looked sullenly at Dan for a moment before going on, “I ain’t seen her since she left.”

  “No contact at all? No email, cell phone calls, text messages?” I asked.

  “Lady, I ain’t got any of that fancy stuff. Look at this place. If I had anything of value it would be missing within hours. The whole neighborhood's full of crooks.”

  “What do you know about your wife other than she was murdered?”

  “Nothing. I know she joined the YMCA but that’s about it.”

  “How do you know she joined the Y?” I asked.

  “I got a piece of her mail by mistake. It was from the Y saying they were having an open house and she should invite someone. I didn’t get an invitation,” he told us.

  “Does the name Melody Jameson or Andrea Oglethorpe mean anything to you?”

  “Just what I read in the papers. They were the other two that was found with my ex-wife.”

  “And you never met them?”

  “Hell…heck no.”

  “Alright Mr. Scott.”

  “No problem. You guys ain’t so bad,” he said closing the door.

  “I wonder how he meant that? Like you ain’t so bad as in tough or you ain’t so bad as nice cops,” Dan asked.

  I didn’t have a clue. All I knew for sure was that we had hit another snag and didn’t know anything more than before. Actually that wasn’t quite true was it? I knew that Scott didn’t have anything to do with it. He was simply not smart enough to carry it off. Another thing we found out was that Mary belonged to the YMCA. I started to mention it to Dan but I knew he would immediately break out doing the song complete with the arm thing.

  “Where to?” Dan asked as we go to the car.”

  “Get in and I’ll tell you.”

  “I know. It’s fun to stay at the YMCA,” he started in singing.

  I just wanted to smack him.

  “What do you think?” he said when he finished.

  “Your M needs some work.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I was ready to kill Dan by the time we got to the door of the YMCA. He sang the song over and over all the way across town. A neat, trim young woman was at the information desk. I showed her my badge.

  “We need some information about members,” I said.

  “What kind of information?”

  “I just need to see if they belonged to the Y.”

  “I can check that for you.”

  “Great. Melody Jameson.”

  The girl did the keyboard thing with fingers faster than grease lightening.

  “Yes. She is a member.”

  “Excellent. How about Andrea Oglethorpe?”

  “She sure was. I just read about the murder of the three women. That’s just plain sick,” she said, “And before you ask, Mary Scott was a member too.”

  Shades of our last case flashed through my head. I didn’t want another case like that.

  “Did they come together?”

  “Sometimes. They would sometimes workout together, spurring each other on. Giving each other encouragement.”

  “And they left together?”

  “I guess. I mean I would imagine so. They usually went to the health bar and left sometime after that. The health bar is on the other side of the stairs so I don’t know when people leave.”

  “Thank you very much, you have been very helpful.” I told her.

  “Well, now we know for sure that they knew each other. Whoever took them must have devised some plan to get them to go with him. Who and how were the questions,” Dan said when we got back in the car.

  “Let’s talk about that. What would cause three women to get into a car?”

  “I guess if they came together in one car and it broke down.”

  “But still, they wouldn’t get into a car with someone they didn’t know.”

  “True,” Dan admitted.

  “What else?”

  “They were going out after the work out and used a limo or cab in case they had too much to drink.”

  “Maybe. I can see that working but we should have found the car or someone should have called about it in the YMCA’s lot,” I replied.

  “What would make you and two of your friends get in a car?”

  “A guy with a gun.”

  “Risky. Right in the parking lot.”

  “It depends on where they parked. You saw the size of that lot. It was almost full and it’s not even peak time yet,” I told him.

  “What else?” Dan prodded.

  “Maybe a cop car.”

  “Why?”

  “Say the guy told them there was an emergency. If he knew them well enough it could have been someone they know.”

  “But all three of you?”

  “Maybe if I had driven and the others went along for support,” I said.

  “I sure hope that’s not it. I vote for the man with a gun. I don’t even want to think about the cops being involved in this,” Dan said.

  “So, let’s go with the guy with a gun. He would have to be stalking them in order to know their routine. On top of that, they would have to park someplace where no one would see them being abducted. And then he would have to get all three in the car. Van probably. Then he would have to get them out of there. That takes a lot of planning and a lot of luck. One little thing out of place and it all goes wrong,” I answered.

  “That sounds like a professional. That, or someone who has done this before.”

  “We need to run this and see if any similar cases have shown up nationally,” I told Dan.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “You want to go get a beer?” Dan said after we had reported in.

  “Do I want to?
Sure. But I had better not.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Yes you do,” I replied.

  “You think getting a beer is a date?”

  “No but it is a toe over the line. Then a foot and so on.”

  “Angie, I’m not asking you out like on a date. I just thought we could brainstorm while having a brew. I’m not trying to make a pass at you,” he said defensively.

  “I know that Dan. I trust you. Honest.”

  “What then.”

  “I just don’t want to cross that line,” I said stubbornly.

  “Fine, I’ll be at the Top Hat if you change your mind,” he said and took off.

  What is wrong with me? A mean what can a beer hurt? Sometimes I don’t even understand myself. Dan is a good guy, he isn’t going to try to make a move on me. Am I just being stubborn or stupid? Maybe a little of both? I walked out to my car and got in and just sat there for a couple of minutes. Oh what the hell, one beer couldn’t hurt. I got out and walked down the block to the Top Hat. It was kind of the local cop bar. Cheap beer and they cut you off after three. The bar owner was an ex-detective and wasn’t about to be responsible for some cop getting a DUI.

  It was dark inside as always and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust. I saw Dan sitting alone in a booth. There were maybe six other people in the bar and at least four were cops. I walked over and sat down across from Dan.

  “I didn’t think you would come.”

  “Oh what the hell. A cold beer can’t hurt. What are you having?”

  “Killian’s Irish Red,” he said holding up the glass.

  I yelled at Sam, the owner and bartender, “Irish Red and some pretzels Sam.”

  “What? Do I look like a waiter?”

  “Do I look like a lady? Get off your butt and bring me one.”

  “Okay but you had better tip,” he yelled back.

  He delivered the beer a few minutes later.

  “Well partner, here is to a better tomorrow,” I said and we clinked glasses.