If something happened to Dan I swear I would track this guy down and put a stick of dynamite where the sun never shines. I just stood there looking at the curtain as various people rushed in and out. I could have been invisible for all I know. Not one person acknowledged my presence.
Finally I decided I wasn’t going to get much in the way of information so I went out to the waiting area, sat and closed my eyes.
**
“Detective Bartoni?”
“Yes,” I said, my eyes snapping open.
“Detective, I’m Doctor Ramsey. I'm here to give you an update on Detective Roberts. He just came back from getting an MRI. He has suffered a TBI. We are going to be doing further testing in a few minutes but I wanted to let you know it will be some time before he have definitive results.”
“Doctor Ramsey, what is a TBI?”
“Sorry. Traumatic Brain Injury. He has a hairline skull fracture. I feel comfortable that no bone was dislodged into his brain. He is fortunate, much harder and he would facing a more life threatening prognosis.”
“Doctor, Dan is my partner. If I can do anything. Just let me know.”
“I understand. He has talked about you pretty much nonstop. He has a great deal of respect for you, Detective Bartoni. I need to get back. You might as well go do whatever you do. You won’t be able to see him until tomorrow,” Ramsey said.
“You’re sure?”
“I am.”
“Alright. Thank you. Would you call me if anything changes,” I said giving him my card.
“I’ll make sure you are notified,” he said slipping my card in his pocket.
I went to check on Pendergrass. He was in intensive care so all I could do was check in at the nurse's station. It was much the same with Potts. He appeared to be much worse. He was in surgery. No one was willing to share why so I decided I wasn’t going to get much more accomplished.
The Sheriff and I had been pretty lucky compared to the rest of them. It just makes you wonder how people are hurt on either side of you and you are relatively unharmed. What is the key? Luck? Divine intervention? Whatever it was, I had it this time, that was for sure.
It felt strange driving back to the station without Dan yapping away. It made me realize how much he had become a part of my life. I was pretty hard on him at times but all in all, he was turning out to be a heck of a detective.
Boy am I getting soft. I was going from hard core black to mellow yellow in less than two years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
This had not been one of my best days. I hate to admit it but I was concerned for both Dan and Brad. Of course I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Potts either but he was further down my list.
The captain came over and we talked about what had gone down. He said he would keep in touch with the hospital and let me know if anything changed.
“Listen, I know it almost seems like a moot point but Pendergrass is pretty much out of the picture at the moment and Potts isn’t going to be around much longer. For now at least this is your case to run as you see fit. I’ve already informed the Mayor and Commissioner. Senators Long and Clark were definitely opposed to us taking over but since the last explosion they felt they had enough to distance themselves from any fallout. They gave the go ahead.”
“Then I just need to form my team. Can I give you a list of the people I want in the morning?” I asked.
“Think about who you want as backup. Dan isn’t going to be ready for duty; that’s pretty much a given.”
“I wouldn’t let him if he was released,” I concurred.
“Just let me know.”
I already had a pretty good idea who I wanted on the team. With the captain and Commissioner's weight, I was pretty sure I would get what I wanted.
**
Now this is serious. I was sitting in front of the mirror trying to decide what to do with myself. I had already emptied my closet looking for something to wear with only minor success. The problem was getting it all to go together.
I wasn’t happy with the person looking back at me. I needed something. No, I needed everything. I am not one of those women who can put on foundation with a spatula and cover it with an inch of powder. And my hair. It was a disaster. I could see some gray in it. Maybe if I shaved my head he wouldn’t notice. Probably not a good plan.
After much deliberation I decided to use just a little powder and blush. I did break down and put on mascara which wasn’t something I had done in a long time. A little lip stain, nothing too heavy, and I almost looked presentable. Well at least I looked like I came from the land of the living which I assume Ben would be grateful for. The exception was my hair. There was nothing that was going to help it so I just brushed it and said the heck with it.
I had settled on a black dress that had a little frill to it so I didn’t look exactly like a stick in the mud. Of course I hadn’t walked in high heels in at least two years. Fortunately I got rid of all of my 6 inch ones when I gave up being a dominatrix. Just kidding.
One more glance in the mirror. I sucked the stomach in just a tad more and pronounced myself, okay. Getting in the TR with the top up, in a skirt with heels was a challenge but I finally managed to fold myself in.
Half way there I almost chickened out. What the hell was I doing? Angie Bartoni with make-up, heels, and a dress? If anyone at work saw me I would never live it down.
When I pulled up some tall gangly guy came bounding down and opened the door for me.
“It’s a stick,” said, “You can drive one right?”
“Oh heck yes. I just can’t figure how to get in it.”
“Well that’s why you get the big bucks,” I replied and walked to the front door of Edward’s.
This is one of those places. There are no prices on the menu. They just charge whatever the hell they want. Why someone would go to such a place is a mystery. Obviously if Ben hadn’t picked the place I would have never darkened their door.
“Madame,” A tuxedoed man with totally white hair said.
I’m thinking, so far he has that part right.
“Are you meeting Doctor Benjamin Warman?”
“Yes I am.”
“Right this way,” he said leading me into the restaurant.
It was obscenely lavish. I didn’t even know we had a place like this in the city. Everyone looked like they had just stepped out of a magazine. I felt like hell.
Ben stood up when he saw me coming across the room.
“I was afraid you might not come,” he said.
“Me too.”
“But you did.”
“Seems I’m here.”
“Thank you for not backing out.”
The booth was fairly cozy. The tablecloth was so white it hurt my eyes. Everything sparkled.
“You look stunning,” Ben said.
I kind of scrunched up my nose.
“What?” he asked.
“That’s a little heavy. I look fine. I look sort of okay. I don’t look too bad. Those work. Stunning. Doctor Warman I’m far from stunning. See that woman over there,” I said nodding with my head.
He looked over at a blond in a low cut dress that had a slit up the side to her waist practically.
“That is stunning,” I said.
“I guess It just depends on your prospective. And no more Doctor, Doctor Warman or anything else. It’s Ben.”
“Okay Ben.”
“I read where several of the police were injured in Zionsville. I take it the same guy is involved?”
“Belk. My partner is in the hospital. Fractured skill.”
“Heavens. Why didn’t you call me? Where is he?”
“St. Vincent.”
“Is Doctor Ramsey doing the work?” he asked.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“Absolutely. He is the best in the city. Probably the state. If he wasn’t looking after Dan I would call over and have him take over the case,” Ben said.
“You would do that?”
/> “You bet. Dan offered me the opportunity to have lunch with you. I owe him.”
**
I don’t remember every detail about the evening except it was more fun that I can remember in quite some time. Ben was funny, charming and knew just a ton of stuff. Some was useless, some quirky, and some just down right brilliant.
The meal, what I remember, was excellent and the wine was perfect. I love wine but the bottle he bought was enough to bring tears to my eyes. It was Vieux Chateau Certan, a 2000 Pomero.
We talked and talked about so many different things that I simply can’t remember them all. What I do remember is that I wasn’t the least bit sorry I had given in.
It was going on midnight by the time he paid the check and we went to have the valet get our cars. This was the awkward part. Do I shake his hand, kiss his cheek or hug him? What?
His car came first.
“I’ll wait.”
“No, mine will be here in a second.”
“Ben,” I said at the exact same time he said my name.
“Go on?” he prodded.
“I just want to thank you for an absolutely perfect evening.”
“I feel exactly the same. I would like to see you again if that is okay,” he said.
I shook my head...yes.
“I would really like that,” I found myself saying.
Wait. I said that? No way. Well I did.
He leaned over and gave me a quick brush on my lips. Little sparks zipped through my body. Oooh, I could get used to that.
He waved as he buckled his seat belt and drove off. After he had gone I asked the valet where my car was.
“Well he can’t get it started and he doesn’t know where reverse is.”
“He, oh hell, never mind. Just take me to it. I’ll do it myself,” I said.
So much for the professionals. I could smell the gas ten feet before I got to the TR.
“You flooded it,” I told him.
“All I did was pump the gas once or twice.”
“Exactly.”
I pulled the choke out and it cranked over a couple of times, started, ran rough then cleared up. I pushed the choke in and off I went. I did not tip them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Pete Anderson hadn’t been around Belk while he was in prison and didn’t realize how far around the bend he had gone. He would go crazy and throw things for no apparent reason. This was making Pete exceedingly nervous.
“Those morons,” he was yelling at the moment.
Pete didn’t say a word, he just continued to add styrofoam to the gas and oil.
“I knew Hill was an idiot but I thought Rice had a little more on the ball. Getting caught in a damn hardware store by some stupid old lady. What was he thinking,” Belk said, throwing a bottle across the room.
It shattered into a million pieces but that didn’t seem to calm him down. He picked up another and threw it as well. His face was red and his eyes were almost popping out of his head. Pete had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
“We need nails. All kinds of shrapnel,” Belk said, starting to calm down.
“Yes. I know. I will have to be the one to get it. I saw the arrest on television. He had a huge cart of stuff. He drew attention to himself. I’ll buy in small quantities at contractor stores. Enough to make it reasonable but not so much as to draw attention,” Pete told him.
“You are going to have to be the one to get the semi-truck as well. I can’t drive one of those things.”
“Not a problem. I can handle the driving. Finding one will be the difficulty. Maybe at a truck stop. I will need to get one that no one is in. We will need to have a way of hiding it.”
“I know just the place for that. The old gas plant in Greenville. It’s been abandoned for years. Or at least it was before I was incarcerated. We will need to check it out,” Belk said.
“What about painting it?”
“No. We can have magnetic banners made and put them on the sides of the trailer when we get it to the target site,” Belk explained.
“That should work. When do you want me to start getting the nails?”
“You know, I just thought of something.”
Pete just waited. No use interrupting him and risking one of his mood swings.
“Why not a junk yard? I mean we can still get nails and small stuff but we could get a ton of stuff at a junk yard.”
“Richard. Don’t you think they would wonder why we were buying junk instead of trying to sell it?”
“I thought about that too. We could tell them I am making a sculpture out of junk parts. Maybe even tell them we will put their name on it if they give us a break on the price.”
“I guess it’s worth a try,” Pete said.
In reality he thought it was an unnecessary risk but this was not the time to bring it up.
**
I was at the hospital bright and early the next morning. I checked in at the nurse’s station for two reasons. I wanted to see how Dan was doing and I wasn’t sure how to react to seeing Ben again so soon.
“Dan Roberts. How is he doing?”
“You will have to wait for Doctor Warman. He will be making rounds shortly,” I was told.
So much for that plan. I was just about to make my escape when I saw Doctor Warman walking down the hall. He waved so I figured running the other way would seem a tad ridiculous.
“Detective Bartoni,” Ben said, holding out his hand.
I gave him a firm handshake.
“I suppose you are here to check up on your compatriots.”
“Mostly Dan. The others are more like professional acquaintances.”
“Alright, let’s start with Dan. As you already know, he took a heck of a hit to the head. He has a slight straightline fracture but we are hopeful it will repair itself. I called in Doctor Beeman, our head neurosurgeon to check him over. Detective, I assume you want me to give it to you straight, correct?”
“Please,” I replied.
I did want that right? I mean, when someone says that you get this little chill that seems to run up the back of your neck.
“He is drifting in and out consciousness. That by itself is not all that unusual but his temperature is elevated as well. His blood oxygen is lower than we would like and his GCS is only nine. Having said that, it could be a whole lot worse.”
“What is the GCS thing you mentioned?”
“Glasgow Coma Scale. It goes from 3 to 15. Fifteen is what we want to see in a healthy person.”
“So he really has a bad head injury and it’s pretty serious,” I said.
“Let me put it this way, we are guardedly optimistic that he will show steady improvement over the next few days,” Ben replied.
“And the other two?”
“Brad Pendergrass has two cracked ribs. That is what caused the collapse of his lung. You did a good job with the CPR,” Ben said and smiled.
“And Potts?”
“I’m afraid he is going to be laid up for some time. His spleen was ruptured and we made the necessary repairs but he will have a long recovery period.”
“Is there anything I can do for Dan?” I asked.
“Not really. He just needs time for his body to heal. All we can do at this point is to monitor his progress and keep an eye on his vital signs.”
“Alright Doctor Warman. I’ll check back from time to time to see how they are all doing.”
“I look forward to it. Oh,” he said, handing me a folded note, "I was given a message to pass along to you.”
“From whom?”
Notice I had on my good English for the doctor?
“I’m not really sure. Good day detective,” he said and walked back down the hall.
I opened the note and read it.
I did not want to embarrass you but I wanted to thank you for a lovely evening. I know you are in the middle of a difficult case but once it is over if you so desire, please give me a call. My cell is 317-222-3098 and my unlisted home nu
mber is 317-678-4534.
Sincerely,
Ben
I tucked the note in my pocket. At least he wasn’t being pushy. The thing that will make me run fastest is for someone to try to push me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Murray Rice sat in the interrogation room just waiting. He had been there for over an hour. Finally I opened the door and walked in. I pulled out a chair across from him with his rap sheet and placed it carefully in front of me.
“You ain’t gonna’ getting nothing from me,” he sneered.
“Okay,” was all I said, opening the file.
“That don’t mean nothing.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“You don’t have nothing on me,” he said angrily.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Okay? Is that all you can say? Okay?”
“Death sentence,” I replied.
“Death sentence? What the hell does that mean?” he demanded.
“It means you are a total moron. That is what it means. You got caught cause you are stupid and lazy. It means that the courts don’t have to worry about knocking you off because Belk will kill you the minute we release you. Did you ever stop just once to think of why you dumbasses get caught? It’s just like the terrorists get other people to kill themselves for the cause while they remain hidden. They are the true cowards and they get jerks and brain dead people like you to do the dirty work. If Belk is so brave, why didn’t he go get the goods? Why send some mindless person like you?”
“That’s not true. He has bigger plans. You’ll see.”
“Maybe he does but one thing for sure, you are here and he is out there. You are dead one way or the other.”
“Now do you figure that?” he demanded.
“I’m holding a news conference in two hours. I intend to tell them that you have agreed to help up in exchange for immunity from prosecution. I will tell them you are in protective custody. Then I will leak your location. Get the picture?” I said and smiled at him.
“You can’t do that. I’m not cooperating. You'll get me killed,” he shouted.
“Hey, it saves us a lot of paperwork and the state a bunch of money. Even the capital offence activists won’t have anything to yell about. It’s the perfect solution. On top of that, we may get lucky and capture Belk,” I said.
NOTHING TO LOSE - Angie Bartoni Case File # 5 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES) Page 9
