by Anne Hagan
“Because the first of the two specific conclusions I’ve been able to come to is that Erin is having an affair.”
His slight smile turned into a look of shock. He started to speak, stopped to clear his throat then began again, “With whom?”
I flipped the file folder open and pulled out a headshot of Donaldson taken from a booking photo that came in with the background info on him Russ had found for me and I placed it in front of Brietland.
“Is this a mug shot?”
I nodded. “His name is Floyd Donaldson. He’s 29 years old and from the Detroit area. He hasn’t been living in Ohio long; three or four months, maybe.”
“So Erin hasn’t been associating with him very long?”
“That I don’t know for sure. There wasn’t time to dig that deep.”
“But you are sure she’s having an affair with him?”
In response, I took copies of the car photos I took at the motel out of the file and handed those to him. “They meet at a no-tell in Gratiot. Those were taken there.”
“I see.” He worked his lips, seeming to be trying to frame his next question.
I didn’t wait for his thought processes to catch up. “Mr. Brietland, this guy makes Victor look like a small-time hood. He’s a top lieutenant in a Detroit area gang with national reach. They’re everywhere. He may have been sent here to run gang operations for them here.”
“Are they the ones responsible for all of the rioting and looting that’s been going on or was that Victor?”
“I can’t answer that sir. My focus was strictly on Erin, where she goes and who she associates with.” And I’m not going to tip Mel’s hand...
“You said you came to two conclusions about my granddaughter. What was the other one?”
“You told me Wednesday that you knew Erin was into drugs but you needed to know if she was also dealing.”
“Yes. Is she?”
I nodded. “She is, but not for Voll, for Donaldson. She ferries product around, distributes it at private homes, collects money and gives it to him when she meets with him.”
“And he isn’t connected to Victor in any way?”
“No.” I kept my tone as even and as matter of fact as I could.
The older man fell silent and leaned back in his chair. His eyes fluttered closed as he raised a hand to his temple to rub it. I waited and watched.
After a couple of minutes of me watching him in that state, he seemed to remember that I was there.
“Is there anything else you think I should know, at this point?”
“From what I’ve seen and heard sir, Erin may well be setting Victor up to take a fall and throwing in with this guy. I’m sorry.”
Brietland waved a hand in the air. “Not your fault. The question is, now what am I going to do about it?”
Chapter 20 – Come Together
Mel
Saturday Morning February 14th
Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department
The Mayor was on my ass and the Police Chief’s ass to catch the gangbangers who, he said, were still running rampant in Zanesville.
Armed with the information Dana gave me, I now knew where Victor Voll was laying his head at night and I was already having the place watched for activity. I called Shane Harding and got him on his way out there before I even got in the shower. If I couldn’t manage a warrant to get in there before either of the Volls left to do whatever they spent Saturday’s doing, undercover deputies would follow both him and her. I hoped Victor would lead me to their hideout and to Foote and that Erin would lead me to Donaldson. We’ll get them all with one fell swoop. That ought to shut the Mayor up!
I had a sit down with the DA, first thing, and briefed him and Janet Mason on the new info that I had from my ‘confidential source’. The goal, I told them both, is to find and take out all of the gang leadership from both gangs that we can lay our hands on. Today.
###
10:38 AM Saturday Morning
“I’m tailing the female suspect Sheriff.”
“Where are you right now?”
“She just left the house.”
“Joe’s in an unmarked. He’ll move in to watch the house now.”
“Roger. No signs of other movement back there but his vehicle is still there.”
“Keep your head down following her. Gates will be your backup.”
“Will do.” Shane rang off.
Shane Harding followed a block or so behind the young woman as she stopped at homes and businesses on a path that took them north through South Zanesville and west through Zanesville. After nine stops, she got on Main going west and took the Route 40 leg off of the Y bridge.
Shane got back on the phone and called Mel’s duty cell.
“Sheriff,” he said when she answered, “looks like her deliveries are done. We’re on 40, headed west out of downtown.”
“Copy. She’s going to meet up with her supplier, if she holds true to pattern. I’ll put your backup in motion. We want them both.”
“Roger Sheriff.”
Erin Voll crossed under Interstate and quickly moved over to the far right lane. She turned right on a commercial road that ran between an Exxon station and a McDonalds. Shane followed as closely behind her as he dared.
When she turned right again, just past the fuel pumps, Shane feared she was headed to the Super 8 motel located behind the station but then she pulled into a parking slot across from the drive-thru for the A & W restaurant that was attached to it. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled his unmarked seized Chevy into another slot along the front of the station.
Voll walked across the drive-thru lane and went in through the restaurant door. Shane quickly radioed his location so Gates could find him if need be and then entered the building through the station, turned left and walked slowly toward the restaurant, watching his quarry.
She looked around at the fairly busy eatery and then pulled her cell phone out of her purse and looked at the face of it, checking the time. Shrugging, she got in line to order at the counter. Shane followed and tried to appear uninterested as she texted on her phone. Instead, he watched the door on the side where she’d parked. She glanced at it occasionally too until it was her turn to order.
As she told the cashier what she wanted, a leather-jacketed male appeared at her side. Shane started almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t seen the other man coming.
The man ordered for himself on her tab and then waited while she paid the bill. As soon as it was offered, he grabbed his cup and moved off to the root beer dispenser without waiting for her. She moved down the counter and waited for their food while Shane stepped to the register to order.
When his order came up before theirs, he loitered at the condiment station a little longer than necessary while he hoped Floyd Donaldson, the man he was sure had appeared, would take a seat.
Floyd finally did move toward a table but he took one with no empty tables adjacent to it. Shane had to settle for a spot a couple of tables away from them. He had a good visual of the couple but no way to hear their conversation. He doubted he would have been able to anyway in the crowded venue.
Taking out his duty cell, he tapped out a quick message to Mel.
At A&W. Visual, no audio. Standby.
He hoped she’d understand and pass his message to Gates who was probably within a minute or two of pulling into the lot in his marked cruiser.
The couple ate quickly and didn’t appear to be talking much. Shane followed suit. He wanted to be ready to act if they got up to leave and take care of the money and drug exchange elsewhere.
Ten minutes after his text to Mel, when the couple both rose and started to collect the remnants of their lunch, a quick scan out the windows along the front and side showed him no visible sign of any overt police presence outside. He waited until they were both out the door before rising himself and going out the same way.
They got into separate cars, both parked opposite of the drive-thru. Shane hadn’
t seen a pass off so he was torn about who to follow with them now leaving. He sauntered toward the same lot himself as first Donaldson, and then Voll backed out. Instead of turning right to go back toward Route 40, one followed the other out of the left side of the lot.
Shane started to panic. While he pretended to be headed toward another car parked further behind the spots they’d occupied, they were driving away. He prayed they’d continue over to the Super 8. That would give him time to work out an alternate plan.
As he stepped up to an unfamiliar car and pretended to fumble for his keys, he glanced around to see them turning left again to leave out of the back of the lot.
He snatched his phone out of his jacket pocket and speed dialed Mel.
“I’m losing them. Two cars, turning east on National Road behind Super 8!”
“Gate’s is in the vicinity,” Mel responded.
“No pass yet. Tell him to keep his distance and keep me posted. I’ll be mobile in two.”
He hung up and, as soon as the two vehicles were out of his line of vision, he turned away from the car he’d been standing beside and bolted for his own.
While cranking on the under dash radio, he squealed out of the little lot and turned onto National Road himself.
“Twelve, what’s your twenty?” he queried his back-up.
“Twelve; Sand and Gravel. Have a visual. Headed northeast.”
Shane passed the main entrance to the sand, gravel and mulch distributor and continued east. Just before the road curved to go more north and become Reihl Road, he spotted Gates in his cruiser, hidden partially behind a parked dump truck at the east side exit. He was in the perfect position to move out quickly but to anyone that might notice him, he looked like he was positioned to clock speeders. That made Shane grin.
Harding rounded the sweeping curve of the road that he knew ended a mile away in a self-sufficient West Zanesville township. He almost missed catching the glint of light off of Erin Voll’s silver Ford [ ] as it approached the top of the long drive to a deep set cemetery.
“Twelve; it’s about to go down in the cemetery off to the left, just around the bend to your east.”
“Roger. En-route.”
Shane whipped the Chevy around in a nicely paved driveway a couple of houses up from the cemetery entrance and went back the way he’d come. He turned right and zoomed up the fine gravel driveway that led to the final resting places of a few hundred of Zanesville’s former citizens. As he crested the top of the low hill, a glance in his rear view mirror told him Gates had turned onto the access road and was seconds behind him.
Erin Voll and Floyd Donaldson had gone counter clockwise around the looped drive and were parked to the left, facing back toward the single entrance and exit drive. They were both out of their cars and looked his way.
Instead of going around to the right as the circle was marked, Harding made a hard left and drove straight toward the front end of Donaldson’s car.
The gangbanger was momentarily startled and stood frozen but then he jumped away off the gravel drive as Shane slid to a stop.
Erin ran for her car, dropping a handful of money to the ground in the process. Donaldson pulled a gun out of his waistband and took a wild shot at the front end of the Chevy as he back peddled away.
With Gates coming up right behind him, Shane jumped out and, using his door as a shield, leveled his own service weapon at the gangbanger.
“Drop it!” Gates voice boomed over his loudspeaker as he brought his cruiser to a skidding stop alongside the Chevy.
Floyd Donaldson started to level the gun to fire again but, still moving backwards, he tripped over a low tombstone in the first row and fell back, dropping the gun as he tried to catch himself.
“Don’t move!” Shane ordered Erin. “Stay right where you are!”
As Gates wrestled Donaldson into the back of his cruiser, a cuffed Erin, now leaning against Shane’s unmarked called out to her lover, “Don’t worry, they’ve got nothing on you! It’s Victor who’s going to fry.”
“Just keep your damn mouth shut!” He called back to her as Gates unceremoniously assisted him into the vehicle.
###
Mel
12:42 PM, Saturday February 14th
Interrogation
Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department
“Just call my grandfather! If you won’t let me call him, you call him! He’ll get me an attorney who will prove you’ve got nothing on me!”
I watched through the one-way glass as Shane tried to interrogate Erin Voll. She’d given him nothing but grief but my gut feeling was, if Dana had gone and given Warren Brietland her report, Voll had better start talking to save her own skin or start demanding to call her father instead of her grandfather. Grandpa wasn’t going to be inclined to save her.
Ducking my head through the door, I said, “Detective, a word.” Shane told Voll to sit tight and stepped out, closing and latching the door behind him.
“She’s all but demanded a lawyer. You’re not going to get much further with her right now.”
“You want me to go and start working on Donaldson, Sheriff?”
“Not yet. Let him cool his heels a while longer and wonder what she’s telling us. Why don’t you go down and see what the techs have found in his car?” Erin Voll had dropped several hundred dollars at the bust when Shane and Gates had shown up but she didn’t have any drugs on her person and it didn’t appear Floyd Donaldson had made a supply pass to her yet. That’s the problem with having to work on the fly...
Gates found a small amount of what appeared to be cocaine on Donaldson when he patted him down. It wasn’t enough to hang possession with intent to distribute charges on him. We needed more.
###
1:13 PM, Saturday February 14th
“He rolled out of the attached garage in a Lincoln Navigator about five minutes ago Sheriff. We’re headed southwest on Darlington now,” Treadway reported.
Hmm, nice neighborhood... “Keep me posted.”
“Roger, out.”
1:19 PM
“Sheriff, Dispatch just issued a call that there’s a body on one of the ranges at the gun club on Moxhala Ridge. I’m about 30 seconds ETA from there. Do you want me to divert?”
When it rains, it pours. “You’re still following our suspect?”
“Affirmative,” he replied.
That was Joe Treadway. Always formal.
“No; Dispatch can roll someone else and call the coroner. We need this guy. Stay on him.”
“Well looky there,” Treadway all but exclaimed. “Guess who just turned down the access road back to the gun club?”
“Be careful back in there, Joe. It’s back out of the way of everything else in the county for a reason.”
Chapter 21 – Anointed
Victor Voll
1:47 PM, Saturday February 12th
Morelville, Ohio
“This is it? This is just fuckin’ sorry.” I waved a hand at the five men assembled in the room.
“Yeah Chief. Most of the members are in the county lockup or in Zanesville custody for one reason or another.” Rat Tail looked pointedly at Juice.
“Ain’t much of a club left to take over.” Disgusted, I shook my head.
“Where’s Traveler? He still in the running?” one of the two foot soldiers present asked. I couldn’t even remember the dumb fucks’ name.
“No he ain’t in the running. He’s gone...for good. If you’re a smart one, you’ll throw in with this guy right here.” I pointed at Rat Tail. “He’s the only one that managed to pull off any shit that didn’t get him or most of the rest of the club nailed. He’s the Chief now...of what’s left of this sorry ass group.”
Major Foote smiled. “It’ll be big again. Recruiting for new blood begins today gentlemen.”
The sounds of wood cracking and splintering pierced the air. I drew my piece and spat as Juice and the two newbies Rat Tail had just inherited hit the floor. I wasn’t about to go dow
n without a fight.
A Sheriff’s Deputy entered the room his pistol held skyward; too high to get a shot at me before I took him out. I leveled my already raised pistol at his face but the sound of glass shattering to my right had me spinning toward a dusty old window instead. A shotgun was pointed through the broken pane at my own face.
“Having a chapter meeting without me?” Sheriff Crane asked as she entered the club room behind her deputy.
###
Mel
2:50 PM, Saturday, February 14th
Muskingum County Sheriff’s Department
I personally paraded Victor Voll through the squad bay in handcuffs. By a lucky stroke of fate, Erin Voll was seated, cuffed, next to Shane’s desk as we walked through. I shot Shane a ‘what’s up look as the spouses glared at each other. He tipped his head toward his phone and then, rolled his eyes.
Young Mrs. Voll isn’t getting any cooperation from the people she hopes will save her sorry ass... It took all I had not to smile at her.
Thinking fast as I headed toward the open door of interview room one, I asked Shane over my shoulder, Where’s Donaldson?”
“Two,” Shane called back to me.
“Get him out here too.” I pointed to an empty bench seat we used occasionally for suspects that was a good thirty feet from where Erin Voll was currently sitting.
Once I was sure the elder Voll was comfy in a room – as comfy as he could be cuffed to the leg of a table that was bolted to the floor, I locked him inside and went back out to the bay just as one of my deputies was bringing Donaldson out of room two.
Joe Treadway was coming through with Major Foote. “Put him in two,” I told him.”
Back at Shane’s desk, a curious Erin Voll was all eyes on Donaldson. Ignoring her for the moment, I instead pointed at Janet’s desk, “Mason?”
“She’s still out on that Moxhala call.”
“Any word?”
He nodded. “Biker; shot. Had ID on him.”
“Is that right?” I jerked a thumb back toward the interview rooms. “We confiscated pistols from both of those two and one of the other three losers we just collared. If Kreskie gets a bullet out of him, I’ll bet you a Coke, one of those three shot him.”
