Over Her Dead Body (12 page)

Chapter 14

Michael put the phone away and took a deep breath. He fought back the urge to cry. He could tell April was an emotional trainwreck. All the things she must be thinking right now…Would s
he think he murdered the girl?
Surely she knew him better than that. He was sure of it. They were so close. They were so in tune with one another that they always knew what the other was thinking without even saying a word. But now…now everything was becoming blurry. It was all happening so fast.
What would
I
think if it was her who had dug someone up in the woods? Wouldn’t there be a cloud of doubt? Wouldn’t
my
faith have been rattled? Would she ever be able to kiss
me
or hold
my
hand again without at least wondering if
I am
a murderer? How could this have happened? Why me?
Michael thought and leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel.
I’ve got to fix this. I’ve got to find out what happened
. There
had
to be a logical explanation for everything and he knew if he couldn’t find it…his life…and everything he loved about it would be over. Forever. Michael looked up at the road.
You can do this
. A voice inside his head lifted his spirits. Do it for April. Do it for me. Michael wiped a tear from his cheek. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. The voice in his head, the voice calling out to him, wasn’t April’s, it was
hers
. Do it for me… “Maria,” He said out loud and put the car in drive.

Angel Falls was a pretty small town and it only took Michael five minutes to get to the ATM at the Angel Falls National Bank on Center Street. Normally, Michael would have been worried about being seen by another police officer, but he knew they were at least two short, and the rest were probably tied up with more important things. Michael smiled at the thought.
Tied up…Normally…
If he couldn’t laugh at that, he couldn’t keep his head through all of this.
There was no normality about this and two of Angel Fall’s finest are tied up alright.

Michael pulled through the ATM and took out Gary’s wallet. He pulled out each card and put the cards in one at a time, entering the pin numbers that they had given him. Both pin numbers were correct and Michael was soon stuffing six hundred extra dollars into his wallet. Well, it was his now anyway. He glanced at the balance on the ATM receipts. Gary had only about $800 dollars left after the $300 had been taken out. That’s about what he’d expect out of a “newbie” as Frank had called him. But Frank on the other hand, had over $26,000 in his account. That was a little more than he would have expected on a police officer’s salary.
Not my business
. Michael thought as he put the cards and receipts to the side.
I’ve got my own problems. Crooked cops are their problem.
Michael thought as he put the car in drive and pulled up by the bank doors. Michael put the car in park and got out. He reached back in and grabbed the Mag
lite
just in case. He had no place to go. They would check the hotels, friends, and family. He was exhausted. Both mentally and physically. He doubted his mind would let him sleep after all that had happened but he had to try. He needed a fresh mind tomorrow. He was going to need to think clearly. April was going to need him to think clearly. He had to try and get some sleep. But where? He ran possible locations through his mind. There was an abandoned brick building on the other side of the river but he couldn’t take the bridge and it was too deep to wade across. He had to meet April on this side of the river tomorrow so he needed to be somewhere nearby. He knew after he made his phone call he was about to make, the police would be driving around looking for him. But where would they look? And where is a safe place to rest? Michael considered hiding out in the back of a random vehicle, but if the owners left for work at seven or earlier, it wouldn’t give him much sleep. And if they spotted him sleeping in the back and called the police, it would all be over. He thought about hiding out under bridges, but he figured it would be one of the first places a police officer would check. That’s where
he
would check. Michael looked around. All he could see were houses, cars, garages, and businesses. Garages…Michael thought about it for a moment. Not all, but some garages have lofts or rafters where men store their extra lumber. If he could find one unlocked, he could sneak in and lay in the rafters out of si
ght
. But if they park in their garage…it was risky but he was running out of time. Michael flipped through the keys and found the trunk key. He opened the trunk of the squad car. There were various pieces of police gear all stowed in cases or nets. There was an emergency kit, road flares, a shotgun, a camera, and other necessities. Michael stood there for a moment staring. He had never seen the trunk of a police car and had never thought about what kinds of things might be stored in the trunk. Despite his exhaustion, he was fascinated. He thumbed through the items in his mind, wondering w
hich ones, if any, he could use
. He was going to be meeting April tomorrow where they had their first picnic. Would the camera help keep him from standing out? Possibly. But if he took it, wouldn’t they be on the lookout for a guy with a camera? Probably. Michael shook his head. There was nothing there he could use. He tossed in the officer’s guns and debit cards and closed the trunk. He pulled out Gary’s cell phone and dialed 911.

“This is 911. What is your emergency?” an older male voice came across the phone.

“Yes my name is Michael Bander. I was taken to a house and tortured by two police officers tonight…

Chapter 15

Detective James was on the way back to the station. He needed to find out what information that the CSI’s had found so far, if any, that might point him in any meaningful direction. He was going to crash at the office and begin early. He’d be lucky to see four hours of sleep tonight.
It’s going to be a long night
… the sheriff’s words echoed in his head. The detective was nearly to town when his phone rang. He had a CB, but for most of his business, he was being fed information that he preferred to keep out of earshot of the residents of Angel Falls. It could only hinder an investigation. Not to mention small
towns like these, gossip travel
s faster than the speed of light and one question about a person of interest over the radio would be a guilty verdict without the trial. So,
D
etective James wasn’t too surprised to hear his phone ringing.

“Speak.” The detective answered his phone in his typical ‘skip the formalities and get right to the fucking point’ tone.

“Detective, we’ve got a problem.” It was Officer Garrison. He sounded a bit frantic. He had been given a position answering the phone and 911 calls after crippling arthritis forced him from working the streets.

“What is it Garrison?”

“Well, the chief wanted me to give you a call. We had a 911 call come in.”

“
And
…?”

“Well, sir…it..it’s Frank and Gary.” The officer was stumbling
.
H
e sounded nervous which was out of character for him.

“What about Frank and Gary? They aren’t questioning the perp are they?” Detective James’ voice began to get agitated. If they tried something like that, they could blow the whole investigation. Often times, officers would get power hungry and try and shortcut their way to detective. It almost always ended badly.

“No sir. The call came in from Michael Bander.”

“Bander? Isn’t he in custody?”

“No sir, er, not anymore.”

“What the hell does that mean
,
not anymore?” Detective James yelled as he jerked the car over to the side of the road and stopped.

“Well sir, Michael Bander made a 911 call from
Gary
’s cell phone. He said he had been taken to a house and tortured. He said he no longer felt safe in police custody and that he left the squad car at Angel Fall’s
National Bank and their weapon
s in the trunk.” There was a pause. “Sir, he said they waterboarded him.”

“Where are they now?” The detective asked

“Michael…er uh the perp, said that he left them tied up at the house they had taken him to.”

“Did he give an address?”

“514 Lincoln Street.”

“Who’s picking them up?” The detective asked impatiently.

“That’s why the chief wanted me to call you. Frank and Gary were suppose
d
to be on patrol tonight. He’s just sent everyone else home. He wants me to call in an ambulance, but he asked me to call you first. He wants you to go assess the situation, take some pictures and try to figure out what happened.”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t have time for this shit Garrison. I’m in a murder investigation.”

“With all due respect sir, if this guy was tortured by our guys, you may not have an investigation. He’ll walk and you know it.” There was a pause.

“Of course
,
you
'
r
e
right.” Detective James conceded. “I’m on my way. Send one CSI to meet me there would you?”

“I’ll call it in right away sir.”

“Why the ambulance? How bad is it?”

“Well sir, this Bander guy said he broke Frank’s knee and that Gary took a shot at him and was hit by his own ricochet.”

“Jesus Christ! Did he have his vest on?”

“No sir. But he was apparently hit in the arm.”

“Tell the ambulance to hold up outside the house until I give them the ok to enter. Got it?”

“Yes sir, I’ll call it in right away.”

“Alright. Did this Bander guy give any clue as to where he was going next?” Detective James asked.

“No, he just said he had a murder to solve.”

Chapter 16

Detective James pulled up in front of the house on Lincoln Street. The house was clearly vacant and was overgrown with weeds. There was nothing to indicate that anyone was at the home or that there had been a disturbance there. Aside from the tire tracks, it didn’t look as if anyone had occupied the place for a long time.

The detective got out of his vehicle and stood for a moment taking in his surroundings. He had many rules to which he lived by, and one of them was to never make assumptions. For instance, taking the story
O
fficer Garrison had told him at fa
ce value meant that the officer
s
had done
something terrible, the perp was long gone, and the scene was secure. But that would be an assumption. Suppose the Bander guy got a jump on the officers and forced them to this location. Suppose he made the call to lure another unsuspecting officer into a false sense of security. Hell, he was a murder suspect. If he killed once, isn’t it logical that he could continue doing so in attempt to cover up his crime? Couldn’t he be simply attempting to destroy evidence?
He’s sent everyone else home...
Garrison’s words echoed in the detective’s mind. He drew his weapon and kept it pointed toward the ground. He reached back in his vehicle and snatched up his
Maglite
. The ambulance turned onto Lincoln Street. They had the lights flashing but the siren was off.
No need to wake up the neighborhood
. Detective James thought. He approached the driver’s side of the ambulance. The window was already down. A guy with curly brown hair stuck his head out of the window. He looked to be in his mid twenties.

“We were told to stay outside until the house was secure.” He said in a too chipper voice for nearly four in the morning.

“If I’m not ou
t in ten minutes, call for back
up.” The detective said.

The curly haired EMT was chewing gum. He looked at the handgun and back at the detective and nodded. “Good luck.” He said.

The detective turned and headed  back toward the door. He stopped at the door, put his flashlight under his arm and pulled out his cell phone and dialed the station. Officer Garrison answered.

“Garrison?” The detective asked.

“Yes
D
etective.”

“What’s the ETA on the CSI?”

“Should be there any moment sir.”

“Have him stand by outside the door with his collection kit and camera. Did the perp say where in the house the officers are to be found?”

“He said they were in the basement tied up. That’s all he said.”

“K. I’m going to secure the upper floor. Tell him not to enter until I’ve cleared it.”

“I will let him know. Watch your six.”

The detective flipped his phone shut and entered the house. It was old and smelled of mildew and cat pee. There was a broken window to his right. He figured all kinds of animals were likely to be living in here. The detective went room to room securing each one. He checked closets and behind doors. Nothing. There were pieces of dry wall, ceiling, and other debris scattered about. In one room, there was an old mattress, a tattered playboy, and drug paraphernalia. Nothing important. Nothing valuable. The place probably served as a hideout for young boys or the occasional homeless person. No noise could be heard even from the basement.

The detective stuck his head out of the front door five minutes later and found a CSI tech standing nearby. It was the Martinez kid from Syracuse. He had been working as a tech in Angel Falls for the last three years. He was good. He was smart. He was late twenties and balding. He had glasses which he reached out now and pushed up on his nose. “Long night
D
etective?” He asked.

“You and me both Martinez. You and me both” The detective replied shaking his head. Technically, it had been a long night for both of them. CSI’s didn’t typically work nights in Angel Falls. There wasn’t enough crime to mandate it. But they were on call 24/7 to handle anything that arises. Because they might go a month with nothing major, they were usually anxious to put their skills to the test when duty called. They loved a challenge.
They’re about to get one now.
The detective thought. “You have your kit? Camera?” The detective asked.

“Ready when you are.” The CSI said holding up his kit.

“Ok, I’ve cleared the upstairs but not the basement. You stay up at the top of the stairs and wait for my signal to come down. Then you work the house like you would any other crime scene.” The CSI nodded. “Also, you keep your eyes peeled in all directions as if the upper floor hadn’t been secured. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” The CSI said.

The detective nodded back and the CSI tech followed him inside and to the left. The detective pointed toward a door with graffiti on it. “That’s the stairs to the basement, but like I said. I haven’t been down it yet so stay on your guard.” The detective pulled the door out a little and
pointed
his Mag
lite
down the stairs. “Angel
Falls Police! Anybody down there?” The detective yelled.

Two voices came yelling back up the stairs confirming they were police officers.

“Anybody else down there with you?”

One voice echoed up “No.”

“Get us the fuck out of here.” Came another.

Detective James descended the staircase slowly sweeping his light and weapon from side to side. Assume nothing. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he paused at the sight. He was so stunned by the scene before him, he forgot all about securing the rest of the room. Right in front of him, on an old wooden table, both police officers were naked and strapped to one another. The detective shook his head as if trying to clear up what must surely be a false image but the scene remained the same. The detective’s mouth opened slightly as if to say something and then closed again.

“Don’t just fucking stand there. Get us out of these Godamn straps!” Frank yelled from the bottom of the pile. The detective snapped out of it and moved his light around the room taking it all in. There were two lamps with broken bulbs that appeared to be connected to a battery. There was vomit on the floor next to the table. The floor was wet everywhere. Since it hadn’t rained in a couple of weeks and this place didn’t likely have water turned on, it gave some credibility to the waterboarding story.

The detective turned around and hollered up the stairs. “Martinez!” The CSI tech began to head down the stairs. “Grab a couple 100 watt bulbs from your car. Tell the EMT’s to stand by at the top of the stairs. The tech went back up and out of the house. Long night…
doesn’t even begin to describe it
. He thought. “Which one of you is shot?”

“I am.” Came Gary’s voice. The one on top. The detective wanted to shine his light in his direction to assess the situation, but the sight of Gary’s ass crack in the air was
appa
l
ling
, gross, and…well gross.

“Where are you shot at?” The detective asked trying to focus his light in another direction.

“I’m shot in the arm.” The officer said. The detective spotted the opening into the next room and stepped into the doorway and peered around. There was nothing of interest. He turned back and searched the floor. He spotted three pairs of underwear, one pair of pants, a shirt, and a vest. Three pairs of underwear… The detective flipped open his phone. He was about to call in that the suspect may be wearing police clothing, but remembered there wasn’t anyone on the street to look for him. He clicked his phone shut and put it away. But why three pairs of underwear? The detective shook his head again.

Footsteps came from the stairs and the detective focused his light in the direction to verify it was Martinez. The CSI tech had his kit over one shoulder, his camera around his neck, and a pack of bulbs in the other hand. He made his way down the stairs and set his kit to the side. The detective flashed the light in the direction of the lamps. Martinez went to the first lamp and carefully unscrewed the broken piece from the lamp and pulled a new bulb out of the box. Martinez screwed in the bulb and the light of the lamp filled the basement and illuminated the two police officers lying one on top of the other, naked on the table. Martinez’ mouth went ajar as he stared in disbelief. He didn’t know whether to cringe or laugh. His expressions seemed to go through all the emotions that were flowing through him. Bewilderment seemed to dominate them.

The men on the table were beginning to groan and get restless. “Will somebody please get us off this fucking table?” Frank yelled.

“Martinez!” The detective pulled the CSI tech out of his trance. Martinez looked toward the detective who pointed at the other lamp with his
Maglite
. Martinez went over to the light and replaced the bulb.

“We’ll have you guys out in a moment. Hang tight. Martinez, snap pictures of everything before we disturb the crime scene.” Martinez nodded and began taking pictures.

“Crime scene?” Gary responded. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Who said you did anything?” The detective responded. “Gary, while he’s working, why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Intervened Frank, “That murderer got the jump on us and escaped custody.”

“I tell you what Frank, let Gary fill me in, then you’ll get your chance to add to it.” The detective noted that Gary seemed to be the weak link and the most likely to botch a fake story. Frank didn’t say anything. He just made a huffing sound. “What happened Gary?”

Gary paused for a moment. He tried to move, but he was bound so tight he did little more than wiggle his lower legs. The detective cringed at the sight.
You’ve got to hand it to the Bander guy, he’s got a sense of humor.
He thought.

“We were taking the perp back to the station.” Gary began. “When he started acting like he w
as having a seizure in the back, w
e pulled over and got out to check on him. When I opened the door, he jumped me, grabbed my gun, and brought us here.”

“He jumped you and grabbed your gun with his hands cuffed behind his back?” The detective asked skeptically.

“Well…he…er…had gotten out of his cuffs.” Gary said.

“I see. Any idea how he could have done that?” The detective asked.

“Well, we didn’t exactly pat him down seeing he was in his underwear and all. We could see he didn’t have a weapon, but I guess he must have had something that could pick a lock because he didn’t have his cuffs on.” Gary stated confidently.

“How can you be sure he didn’t slip his hands out?” Asked the detective. Flashes were going off around the room as the CSI tech made his way around snapping pictures.

“I checked them myself.” Gary said. “They were tight. No way he pulled his hands out.”

“Gary’s right, I checked them as well.” Added Frank. The detective had pulled out a notebook and was making notes as they went along. The CSI had photographed most of the room and had made his way around the table to where Frank and Gary were facing. The CSI held the camera up in their direction.

“I don’t fucking think so!” Yelled Frank. The CSI tech lowered his camera a moment and looked at the detective. “You fucking snap our picture and I’ll shove that camera so far up your ass, you will be shitting black and white for a week!” Frank yelled again.

The detective nodded at the CSI to continue. The tech looked back at Frank, shrugged, and focused the camera. “Sorry boys,” the detective said, “evidence. You understand. Can’t charge him with kidnapping if we can’t show the jury proof can we?” The detective stated with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Show the…you better not show anybody that fucking picture! I’m going to smash that thing as soon as I get out…of…here!” Frank was wiggling as hard as he could. He wasn’t making any leeway, but the more he wiggled, the more humorous it made it look as Gary wiggled with him on top. The CSI lowered his camera but was laughing quietly. He looked over at the detective who was also trying very hard not to bu
r
st out laughing.

“Alright, alright, let’s get you boys out of here. Before I do,
whose
puke
is
on the floor?” There was a
silence. Apparently the officer
s hadn’t thought of including that into their story. “It’s going to be DNA tested, so we are going to find out anyway. Whose is it?” The detective asked sternly.

“It’s the perps.” Said Frank. “He vomited after he started torturing us. Guess he couldn’t handle it.”

The detective nodded. “Martinez…” Martinez looked up. The detective had moved out of sight of the officers. “I need to take a couple pieces of evidence with me, so I need you to quickly bag, tag, and sign a transfer of evidence form.” The detective held his finger up in front of his lips in a shushing gesture. He had spotted the cell phone, open and under the straps, and had guessed what Bander may have been up to. The detective held up his cell phone and pointed to it and then down and then made a gesture as if he was dropping it into an evidence bag and sealing it. The CSI looked down and then back and nodded understanding. “I need you to bag some of that vomit for me so I can get the lab started on DNA.” The detective finished.