Murder at Police Station

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Father said, "Probably not my place to say it, but Rory called your boss back east and she's on her way here as I tell you this."

  A couple of seconds to digest the information, because her mind wasn't back functioning properly, said, "I suppose it was the right thing to do. I'm still not sure about what I'm doing. I think Fran is right: take a shower and see what develops. I think a walk on the beach with Smiling Sam would be in order.

  Stacy in short order finished off her breakfast. Then off to the shower to once again scrub the place on her chest where he violated her. Nobody had ever touched her there except Rory. Now she was not sure that even he could touch her body. She realized, and now understood, what a violation rape must feel like. It was and is a life changer.

  Ray stood up and said, "If you need me I'm at the office. When you see Sam tell him I'd like to see him if he has time."

  "Okay dad. I'm feeling better already. When I get some fresh salt air in my lungs, which should clear my head, I'll be ready to go again."

  "I'm staying home the rest of the day. If you need to rest, I'll be here. I've some baking to do," said Fran.

  Stacy went to shower and brushed her teeth. She chided herself for not have brushed earlier to remove the taste of medicine in her mouth. After a thorough scrubbing, especially between her breasts, she dried her hair. Nothing was left of the blood but a red spot. She wished the memory of it would go away so quickly. After she got dressed she called Rory who was just finishing lunch at the restaurant with Ben. She asked him to pick her up when he could.

  Ben went to the station house and Rory picked up Stacy. Rory was very apprehensive as to what to say or not say. He waited for her to speak. She looked at him and gave a slight grin saying, "I'd just as soon not talk about it, Tall Man. Let's drive over to Sam's house. I want to walk on the beach with him. He's like my grandfather you know. He'll cheer me up. By the way when will Connie arrive?"

  "Late in the afternoon was the last word I received. Do you think you'll be safe walking the beach?"

  "Yes, no problem as the note said to back off and he doesn't know what I will do. I'm safe for the time being, but for how long, that remains to be seen."

  "Okay, you're the boss. Now let me update you on what we found out at the assisted living facility. First we talked to the second and now temporary director Ms. Lewis. We think she was in love with the victim. Also, we think she knows something about the books being irregular. The receptionist felt the two had been more than just co-workers, but had no proof. What all this has to do with him being murdered and with Chief Lance being killed, is unclear to me."

  "I don't know either, but somewhere there's a tie to all of this. What that is, who knows. But, we'd best find out before too long or we'll be fed to the wolves; or maybe I should say coyotes."

  "Here we are. Call me if you want a pickup, or do you want me to drive you two to the beach?"

  "Let's see what Sam is doing first. Dad wants to see him as well. I'll run in and check with him. Hang on a minute."

  Stacy never reached the door when he opened it. "Hello dear Stacy. Come in and sit awhile. How about Rory, is he coming in?"

  "No, but I was wondering if you were up for a short hike on the beach this sunny, but cool day."

  "I'm game if you are. Let's catch a ride down to the jetty and away we go."

  Rory said, after they got out, "Call me when you want picked up. Don’t make it too long as Connie will be coming later."

  "Give us forty five minutes and come get us. We're just going to make a short trip down and back to clear my head."

  They trudged through the soft sand at the edge of the parking lot, down to where the sand turned hard from the surf. It was better walking down by the surf, but occasionally you could, if not paying attention, get your feet wet if you were not careful. It was always best to keep an eye on the surf for the occasional rogue wave would come crashing higher onto the beach.

  Sam said, as they turned south down the beach and into the wind, "I know what happened last night. Do you want to talk about it?"

  "Yes, some of it. Why do you think I was chosen to be a victim?"

  "Your reputation precedes you. If anyone can catch the guy, it's you. He was afraid of that happening. I also believe he would kill you in a heartbeat without any guilt whatsoever. This guy is a born killer. I'm still thinking he's military trained, but let's wait and see what happens with the DNA."

  "I've no plan to cease the investigation. He'll soon know that. I feel, Sam, rather naked out there waiting for the knife to the chest like the others.

  Sam looked up and saw two seagulls diving for the newly washed up dead crab. He smiled when the two were fighting; a third came swooping down to claim the prize. Sam said, "We really need a clever trap or someway of drawing him out into the open."

  "He's too smart I think for that idea, but I did suggest it to father though. The real question is why is he doing this to relatively innocent people. Maybe Oday was skimming the books, but is that reason enough to kill the man. And what about Chief Lance. He too was not guilty of anything we know about. But yet he winds up dead and scalped. Just doesn't make any sense Sam."

  Sam rubbed his eyes from the salt filled wind they were walking into. He stopped, turned and Stacy followed his lead to return north with their backs to the wind. He said, ""I'm still curious as to how the killer got into the station, caught the Chief unaware, killed him, and then left locking the door behind him. Also the station door was locked as well. How did he do that?"

  "This is one of those Sherlock cases. I suppose a locksmith could answer the question. If a locksmith can unlock the door, why can't he lock it?"

  "I think you're right Stacy. This guy is a superman criminal that few can match. The stealth he did at the assisted facility astounds me. He went right by the receptionist and out the door without her having a clue he did it. Well, we can discuss it a thousand times and get no closer to an answer. We must have patience and keep our wits about us. I see that Rory's back already. How do you feel now?"

  "Better, but still a little apprehensive about what might come next. I've all the faith in the world of Rory and others watching my back, but only God can keep me safe. Oh, father wants to see you so let's all go to the station house."

  -11-

  Back at the police station, Sharon told Stacy that Rhonda had called. She said, "Rhonda is anxious to talk to you and wouldn't say why to me. I told her about the attack on you and she was very concerned for you safety. I told her you were a tough soldier and would brush it off as part of the job." Sharon gave Stacy a lopsided smile. "I sounded strong, but I'm so grateful that you're not physically hurt, but I know you must feel violated. Anyway, I've some work to do so catch you later."

  Stacy went to her office and sat down at her desk. She took a deep breath, looked around and picked up the phone. Rhonda answered on the first ring. "Lord, Stacy, are you okay?"

  "Could be better, but it's like climbing a sand dune: one step up and slide down two steps, but eventually I'll get to the top. What's up?"

  "I got the DNA information. You're right about military being in the picture. This guy is one bad ass person. His name is John Iron Hawk Martin. He was in Special Forces as a Sergeant. He was dishonorably discharged two years ago. He served in Iraq and for three tours in Afghanistan as a sniper. I talked with a Captain Arnold who was his commanding officer. He told me that what happened to Iron Hawk happens to a lot of the men who spend too much time alone in the field. He had a record of almost twenty confirmed kills. Not only that but he left a calling card behind. It was a feather sticking up out of the ground where he took the shot. Rumor has it that a six figure bounty was on his head. However, he went "Looney Tunes" and was sent to Germany with a leg wound. After they patched him up, he took off one night and was AWOL for a few weeks. He came back to the hospital as if nothing ever happened. They sent him home. Apparently he couldn't take the boredom and began to drink. That's when all hell broke loose in a tavern o
f military guys. It was said some soldier made a joke about him being a mini Geronimo. When the fighting was over, that guy barely survived and three others were admitted to the hospital. He was put in jail. Subsequently he was discharged and set home to Arizona. That's all I have for now. The Captain said he is a very dangerous person with exceptional fighting skills."

  "Thanks. That really helps Rhonda. Connie is coming in this afternoon. Maybe she has some ideas, but I doubt it. Anyway, we've got to catch this guy. The big question is I wonder if he's through killing."

  Rory came in with Sam in tow. Sam had talked to Chief Ray. Ben was spending a lot of time on the computer. Rory said, "How about some lunch, Super?"

  "Why not. Sam you up for lunch?"

  "Sounds good to me."

  "Let's go then," said Rory, striding to the door.

  Chief Ray came out and said, "I'll be gone awhile. The security people are coming. I told James he's in charge. Call me if you need something."

  It was also lunch time at the assisted living facility. Ron was having a chat with the janitor Dick Downing. It was hard to tell Dick's age, but somewhere between fifty and sixty Ron guessed. Ron asked Dick, "What do you think of the doctor being murdered and scalped?"

  Dick was a tobacco chewer. He liked the black can Copenhagen the best. It was evident by the bulge in his lip and the black specks on his yellow teeth. He always wore coveralls with the leg pocket for a hammer, but in the hammer's place, a plastic water bottle was used for him to spit into. However, he was very clever with the excess in his mouth. Nobody ever saw him spit into the bottle. He was a clever chewer.

  He said, "Well, this is owned by the Indians and the killer must be an Indian. So it must be an Indian matter. Yes, there's been talk that the doctor was a gambling addict. That sickness requires money and a lot of it. I think the rumors were true that he did something funny with the books."

  "Yes, Dick. It stands to reason, but do you think he was alone in his bookkeeping scam?"

  "The woman Lewis is in on it. I've seen the storeroom where they'd been on occasion. There was evidence of some sex going on, but none of my business."

  "Thanks Dick," he smiled appreciatively, "and now it's time for lunch. Well, I'm headed for lunch. What time is it Dick?"

  "Yes, go the cafeteria straight ahead. I too forget a lot of shit as I get older. I wonder if they'll give me a discount when I forget my name."

  Ron left chuckling. He decided to text Rory at the next opportunity to inform him of the latest from the janitor.

  At their local hangout, Rory was waiting for his steak sandwich to arrive. He said, "Hey I just got a text from Ron saying that," as he lowered his voice, "the janitor confirms the relationship between the doctor and his second, Lewis. Also, he said the books have been cooked."

  "I think that was evident," said Ben. "We need to tie the gambling along with the embezzlement to the homicides. The only connection we have is that the assisted living facility is owned by the Indians and the casino too. Lance was an Indian, but the doctor was white. Go figure what this entire case means. It's making my mind a little crazy."

  Stacy had been quiet listening and thinking. When there was a lull, she said, "We need to see what Lance's background was. Connie is bringing the history with her of the case Lance was involved in back east. However, if so then why would the killer murder the doctor?"

  "Because he was stealing from the Indians," said Ben. "Maybe he was sending the message to not take what is not yours."

  "I like it," said Sam tackling a heart attack juicy burger and fries.

  Through a mouthful, Rory said, "I’m with you Ben and Sam. This killer has a real ax to grind, but the why leaves me in doubt that it's just because some Indians or a White man was fleecing the tribe. That scenario has been going on for over two hundred years. So why now?"

  "If that is the motive, then Ms. Lewis might be his next victim," said Stacy, pushing away her half eaten lunch.

  ~~~~~~

  Connie Wilson, the director of the US Marshall's agency landed in Bandon, Oregon with her two Oregon Marshall's Stacy and Rory were waiting to pick them up. Ben had, after lunch, rushed up to Coos Bay to rent a nine passenger van for Connie's entourage. He too sat waiting.

  The sleek private business jet made a perfect landing. Of course, the pilot would be an experienced one. After the passengers hurriedly debarked, due the strong onshore brisk wind blowing, they loaded up for the short trip to the police station just a few miles away.

  Once in the station house, Connie asked for a full briefing. It was Stacy who gave the briefing that did not last long. They had very little to go on. Connie did seem curious about the idea of an Indian revenge. After that portion of the briefing, she wanted to know the particulars of the assault on Stacy. She said, "Stacy if you'd rather not discuss it, that is fine with me. I can get the details from your father."

  "No it's all right. I don’t mind now that the shock has worn off. I shudder to think how vulnerable I was and he could have killed me very easily. It really goes to show us that if any person, or bad person wants to do you harm, they can. No amount of security can prevent a true professional killer. I can't and won't' go around looking over my shoulder. Besides he can't be seen. I wonder if there's something about the legend of a 'Ghost Dancer or Walker.'"

  "Well, I have with me four of our best agents to keep a watch over you and the others involved in the investigation. To make it easy to remember their names, I've used the military call signs: Able, Baker, Charley, and I skipped D to Easy. As you can see there're three men and one woman. Able is the tall one; Baker is the bearded one; Charley smiles a lot; and Easy doesn't mean that she is a gentleman."

  They all went around with introductions. Sharon was clever enough to have name tags made for the meeting. Connie was impressed, and said so, to a red cheeked Sharon scurrying off to a desk near the reception area.

  Connie said, "After our meeting here, we'll want to scout out your family home and area. Is your father available?"

  "Yes, he's at home now meeting with the security people. It might be good that you send the team to oversee the security. Ben can drive them over in the van."

  "Good idea, Stacy. Easy will stay with you and the other three will keep an eye on the property at night. Make sure the other Bandon officers are aware of our agents in the area at night. We don't want any accidents to happen."

  "Father will take care of that end of things," said Stacy.

  "Well, Marshalls, and others on this fine team, where, or what do we do now to apprehend this 'Ghost Dancer'?"

  Stacy said, "Because we think at this point in time, the assisted living facilities assistant manager, Ms. Lewis, was romantically involved with Dr. Oday, the second victim. We think it's quite possible she might be on the killer's list. Do we bring Ron who is our undercover agent on the scene to act as a guard for her?"

  "Good question," said Connie, looking into Stacy's intense eyes. "Let's do this for now. Have Ben take the agents over to meet your father; Rory, can drive me to the motel. After I freshen up and think for a little while and then let's get together later this evening. I think at this time Ron has done about all he can providing the good information he gleaned from the staff. Rory can arm him and have him introduced as a Deputy Marshall assigned to guard Ms. Lewis."

  "Good idea," said Rory, standing up and ready to proceed.

  "Wait a second Rory. I see a strange face that I've not had the pleasure of meeting. I'm presuming he is Reserve Deputy Marshall Smiling Sam," Connie said, smiling at the grey haired pleasant looking senior across the table.

  Sam reached across to take her offered hand with a grin, said, "It's my pleasure to meet you and to also help out wherever I can."

  "If we had more concerned citizens like you, Sam, we probably would have a lot less violent crime." They parted, respecting each other. Sam's cheeks turned a shade of light red. He was quite pleased with her comments.

  Rory took Connie to her motel, Ben took th
e agents to meet Chief Ray. Meanwhile, Easy waited for Stacy to acknowledge her presence. It did not take long after they left, but Sam hung back just to see what the agent would do to protect his God Daughter.

  Stacy saw a woman in her middle thirties, who looked in fine shape. She was dressed for the coastal weather with a turtle neck sweater and black jeans. At first glance, she appeared friendly, with dark brown eyes that showed compassion and caring. Stacy said, "What do I need to do in your estimation of safety?"

  "You're not going to like it but I think a vest is in order. With the weather it shouldn't be too restrictive to wear. Also, regardless of how stealthy he is, I shall not sleep while you do. We are trained to stay awake and alert. How's that sound for starters?"

  "I can live with that. I feel better already. How about you Sam?"

  "Yes, sounds good. I'll go home now. Call me if you need me."

  Stacy sat talking to Easy for awhile. Stacy felt more relaxed now than before. Prior to Easy, she had only Fran and her father to lean on if necessary. Of course she felt comfortable and secure, but now she had someone to talk with that would totally understand her ordeal. It did not take long for her to open up and say to Easy, "The intruder came in my bedroom, cut off my pajama top buttons, opened my shirt up to my bare skin and then he must have cut himself to use his blood to make an X over my heart. I couldn’t have felt more violated if I'd of been raped."

  "Statistics reveal that few women who have been raped fully recover from that violent experience. When I was young I used to baby sit a lot in our neighborhood. My parents were well off and we lived in a nice area. However, like most parents in those days, they wanted their children to show respect for money. I loved it cause it gave me my own spending money to do whatever I wanted. Well, this new family moved in and asked around for a baby sitter for their four year old child. I accepted their offer to take care of their kid. I was fourteen at the time and fairly well developed. Anyway, they said they'd be late, so after the youngster went down for the night, I could crash on the sofa.