sylvia 34

Sylvia 34.  

The time seemed to be going by faster than before.  I still hated the time I ran, every damn second of the thirty minutes.  All I could hope for was that it passed quickly and it did.

I looked for something to occupy my mind and it come lately in the form of the party at Gypsy Allen’s house.  The question was also in my mind was what in the world did they do there.  What had gotten the 7year old killed was of course the big question.  Of course there was alway the who dun it.

By the time I made it into the shower, I had reviewed all the fact and tried out all the theories to no avail.  I still had no idea.  I did know that I was going to find out something later that day.  The hippie pot grower was going to ID the big shot electrician.  The electrician could make a deal to save his ass or not.  It was up to him.

As for me it was time to see which petty little thing I would spend my morning making a report on.  A report was necessary for the insurance companies to pay off.  So everyone had to have one, even though they knew their shit was forever gone.  Still it gave me something to do between the fun things.

One of those fun things happened with a Ford Explorer blowing through a stop sign right in front of me.  I pulled in behind him to write him a ticket, but when I lite him up, he decided that he would have none of it.  He took off on the run,

He hit fifty miles an hour in a school zone and that worried me.  Kids were likely to be getting out of parked cars.  We were fortunate nobody was on the street by 9AM.  I was close enough to read the license plate.  The dispatcher gave me his record while I chased him,  I really didn’t care at the moment, I just wanted to get him stopped.  I came close to losing control of the Bronco more than once,  Butch tried to get ahead of him and set up a roadblock, but he kept changing his route.

The highway patrol joined in the chase.  I was glad to see it.  I didn’t care who got the credit, I just wanted to find out why he ran.  I had a feeling it had something to do with what was in the back of that explorer.  Why else would you run in a pick up.  There were other reasons, like you stole it but I just had a feeling about it.

In the end he ran into the spike strips of a Highway Patrol road block.  I pulled over in a hurry to avoid them.  My bronco almost went into a ditch, but that was preferable to telling Chief Deputy Webster I hit the Highway Patrol spike stick.  Since the Highway Patrol pulled them out of the road immediately after the runner hit them, for me to hit the stick I had to be going to fast and I had to be too close to the runner.  It would have meant that I had not followed protocol.

I was in hot pursuit and never lost contact, so I was allowed to take charge of the prisoner and the truck.  The truck proved to be filled with gallon plastic jugs, the kind used for milk, and moonshine.  Obviously he wasn’t carrying milk.  The SBI crime scene team came over and picked up the pickup truck.  It was going to be a all day report writing event.

When I got to the court house, after dropping the runner, one Robert Blossom, aka Bosco, off at county lock up, I ran into Simpson.  I was tried and in no mood for levity but he tried it anyway.

“What are you doing Deputy Porter?  Are you trying single handedly to cause jail over crowding in Warren County.  He said it then laughed.  He stopped laughing when I looked at him with the stare that has made grown men cringe.  I’m not unique in that.  All women have one, I think.  

“So tell me what we learned from the electric man?” I demanded.

“He folded up like a deck chair, when I told him I was going to call his wife’s attorney.  He doesn’t want to hear about it in the divorce hearing.  Anyway the parties just started move around now that Allen got himself killed.  Mostly nothing they do is illegal.  It’s immoral and they are all going to hell no doubt, but nothing but the pot is illegal.  The get a little high take off their clothes and swap husband and wives.  His wife wasn’t into it, so she never went either.  

“So, it is just because they want to keep their reputation clean, is why they don’t just say ‘Yeah I was there so what.’  Take the little pot hit and clean up their act.” I said knowing I wasn’t rushing to tell what I knew either.

“That and the last two time it was at Allen house it got weird,” Simpson said. “Even worse than usual.  They had been having live sex shows all along.  Seems most of them were willing to have sex with others while being watched.”

“Please don’t tell me they were abusing that little girl,” I said.

“Okay I won’t tell you, but it seemed like mild stuff,” Simpson said.

Oh course I could tell him there is no mild stuff when you are seven.  It all is the same.  Showing daddy you panties is no better or worse that showing him your pee pee.

“Well that something I guess, but what happened to cause someone to kill  Jenny?” I asked.

“No idea, but it wasn’t at the party that night.  At least that is what our horny electrician says.” Simpson informed me.

“Well I guess that puts you back to square one,” I said.

“Not quite, we are going to the party,” he said with a smile.

“What do you mean we pale face,” I asked.

“Okay, we are going to crash it.  I assume you would volunteer to come see who the kinkos are,” he said.

“Not unless you are paying time and a half.” I said.  “I have been busting my ass I need a break.”  It wasn’t the I needed a break, I was afraid the Boyle brother were back in the party scene.  I had told them I would not warn them, so I would just have to see how this one played out.

I was a nervous wreck even though the party wasn’t for two more days.  I knew better than to warn the Boyle brothers.  I had given them my only warning and they knew it.  The were strictly on their own,  I still  had my job to do so I went home to spend a sleepless night.

I ran the next morning as usual.  The trick for me was to maintain my present schedule,  Nothing could change, if worse came to worse my lawyer could say would a guilty woman do this.  I hoped it never came to that.

When I got to work the next day I was as cool as always.  I helped Butch direct traffic around a school bus accident.  No one was hurt so it was an okay assignment. That after noon I saw cars at the bunker as I had come to think of the service station where the survivalist stayed.

I stop and the man I had arrested informed me he was out on bail, and I couldn’t talk to him according to his lawyer.  I agreed and left.  after that  the day was over.

Mary Ellen called and tried to turn me on again, I told her not that night I had a lot on my mind.  I figured she would understand.  She did.  She let me hang up without trying to make me feel guilty.

I lay in bed and just tried to sleep but nothing happened I could not shut down my mind.  I ran what if scenarios all night long.  I was still awake at 5AM.  It was important that I maintain my pretense to everyone the things were normal.  So I ran and I waved to the diners at the Cafe on the Square.  I was back showering right when I was supposed to be.  Everything looked normal,  I was the only one who knew I was about to lose my mind.

I went into the court house and picked up my Bronco before Butch got in.  I did not want to have a conversation with him or anyone else.  Since the party was that same night at someone’s house, Simpson and I agreed that it had become a floating party.  It was part of the reason the pot salesman went to the parties now there was no one in charge.  The whole thing had gotten less structured not more.  But it also got to be loose enough for the cops to break the ring of silence.

I wanted to go to that party so badly, to find out what was what.  I knew I had to stay away so that the Boyle brothers would not comment on me being there by accident.  It they were there at all.  It wasn’t for sure their party, but how many parties like that could there be.   Warren county wasn’t L.A.  It was going to be bad outcome tonight.  

“305 See the man in Archers convenience store.  Reference the ATM machine.”  

“10-4“ I answered.  It was 1:35PM with a little luck this would last till 2:30.  If it did I could end the day with something to do.  I drove right over, since I needed something to take my mind off the party invitation,

“Who called?” I asked the clerk.  Rather than answer he pointed to a man standing beside the ATM machine at the end of the counter.  I walked down to him.  “I’m Deputy Porter what seems to be the problem.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a credit card theft scam,” the man said.  

“I see.  What makes you thing that?” I asked.  “Could I also see some ID please.”

He handed me his drivers license.  His address was out of town.  That ATM kept my card.  That’s why,” he said.

“Did it give you a message to explain it,” I asked.  

“Yes, it said my account had been closed,” he said.  “That ridiculous.”

“Did you try calling the operator of this machine?” I asked.

“Yes they gave me some song and dance about the account was closed by my bank.” he said.

“And did you call your bank?” I asked.

“Yes of course I called them.  They haven’t closed the account and don’t know anything about it.” He said.

I turned to the clerk.  “Have you had any trouble with this machine before.”  

“No,” he replied in a heave middle eastern accent.  “I think this man is mistaken, or he is the one running the scam.”

“Did your bank close the account?” I asked the customer.  “Yes, they immediately closed the account, when I said the machine said someone closed it.  They are going to issue me a new card,”

“Good, I am going to file a police report in case you need it.  Also the bank’s fraud department will look into it I’m sure.  Are you staying here?” I asked.

“No, I’m just passing through,” He said.  “Is that all you are going to do?”

“Yes, I’m afraid there is nothing more I can do.  It my be a machine malfunction or it my indeed be a scam,   I will warn the other deputies about it,”  I made sure the clerk heard that.

It took me a long time to follow up back in the station.  I called the bank to verify what I could of his story,  Which turned out to be none without a warrant.  I’m glad I hadn’t tried that earlier, I would have looked foolish,

As I left the building I turned down one last invitation to join that raid.  I told him again I needed my sleep.  I went home and worried.  I wondered, if I would still have a job at the end of shift the next day.

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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