Sheriff Porter 61 (edited)

Sheriff Porter 61

Since I had worn gloves while I checked his apartment/dorm unit, I wasn’t too worried about the cops searching the place.  I was pretty sure that his disappearance had a low priority, but the report would allow me to ask questions.  That’s why I made it.  I also agreed to meet the officers at the site to check it out.

Of course it was Patrol Officers who contacted the campus security office to open the dorm unit.  I had to explain that I had been hired by the family since they had not been able to get in touch with Antonio.  I also explained that the neighbors hadn’t seen him in over a week.

The City Police, the Security Officers from the private university, and I were standing by when the door was opened.  I stood in the doorway with my hands in my pockets.  “Officer is his toothbrush here?”

“Yes ma’am it is,” the Patrol Officer said.

“How about his closet and clothes cabinets, are they empty?” I asked.

“No ma’am, they are all here.  It doesn’t look like he went on a trip.”

I didn’t point him toward the drugs they just found them.  “If he was on medication and hasn’t been here in a week, maybe we should look at this as a crime scene,” I suggested.

I watched the officer carefully to be sure he didn’t find the kid’s cell phone.  They didn’t find it.  “It doesn’t look good,” I suggested.

“No ma’am it doesn’t,” the patrolman said.

“The missing cell phone and the missing pictures are contradictory,” I told Wilson, when I called him.  “If they were laying a false trail the cell phone should be here as well as the photos.  If he was running, he took his phone but didn’t call his dad for help.  He took the photos, because for some reason he didn’t plan to come back.  It really makes no sense.  The Marshals would never let him carry the cell phone.  What did you get on the trace?”

“The phone has been disabled.  Either temporarily or permanently,” he said.

“Somebody tossed it in the river, but why were the picture taken?  Why would he take the cell phone just to disable it?” I asked.

“Maybe he was trying to confuse us?” Wilson suggested

“Why, he doesn’t even know us?” I asked not expecting an answer.

“Maybe he is just relocating and dropped his phone,” Wilson suggested.

“You don’t do a voluntary relocation and leave your meds and toothbrush.  If he is on the run, why did he take the family photos?”  As usually happens a thought came from nowhere.  “The photos got tossed in the trash before he left.  He is on the run and didn’t want them to be used to identify him.  But if he watches TV, he knows the cops can get a DMV photo.  It wasn’t cops he was running from.  He takes the phone, then someone reminds him it can be traced, so it goes in the trash after the card is removed.”

“Maybe he leaves willingly and then it goes south and the cell phone is junked,” Wilson said.

“I’m going to check into a motel, while you run down his girl friend and his Sampson friend.  When you get me a location I will go talk to them.”

It was a mom and pop, turned Paki motel that I checked into.  I dropped my bag and laptop off in the room, then went to look for his girlfriend.

“So Wilson what is the deal with Ruth Paulson?” I asked.

“She is a waitress in a local restaurant.  A high school drop out as a matter of fact.  Hardly the kind of girl this kid would run with,” Wilson said.

“Well, I’m not going to know till I talk to her,” I said.

Twenty minutes later I was in the restaurant where she worked.  At first I thought she wasn’t in.  The only woman waiting tables in the small dining room had to be fifty years old.  Then I heard someone call her Ruth.  Wilson obviously knew her age, I was gonna kick him in the ass, when I got home to New Wales.

Ms. Paulson my name is Sylvia Porter is there somewhere could we talk please?  It about Antonio Garcia, and it is important,” I said.

“It will have to be here unless you want to wait till 10 PM.”  I didn’t want to give her time to alert Antonio just in case she knew where he was.  “If you don’t mind these people overhearing your business with Antonio and Mr. Sampson fine,” I said.

“I got a break coming so come on out to the back where I smoke,” she said.

I followed her out.  Once we got outside I went right into it.  “So Ms Paulson, how do you know Antonio?” I asked.

“Tony eats here some,” she said.

“Is that why his mom thinks you are his girlfriend?” I asked.

“You know about that huh?” she asked.

“Yes, they are worried sick about Tony.  He just disappeared from school two weeks ago.  So the next people to call will be the cops or worse,” I said.

“You mean some of his dad’s men?  I can handle them,” she said.  She probably believed it.

“Ms Paulson, I don’t mean to frighten you, but you can’t handle them.  I’m asking and you can chose not to cooperate, but then I have to report to Tony’s mother.  I will tell her what I have learned and what I did not learn.  She will no doubt tell her husband, and then things will go downhill very fast from there.”

“Yeah that’s what Tony said.  He said someone would come asking questions.  He didn’t say it would be a skinny broad,” she said.

“That’s because he doesn’t know me,” I said.

“He was convinced he could fool his father and put off the discovery of his being gone a couple of more weeks.  Then he planned to convince his father he had gone into the witness protection program.  He said his dad would be so worried about what he knew, that he would be too busy covering his tracks to try hard to locate him,” she said.

“He actually did a pretty good job of faking it.  I almost bought into it.  He made a few mistakes, but they were nothing a couple of thugs would have noticed.  So tell me are you Albert’s mother?”

“Albert is just as rich as Tony.  His money comes from a very old Boston family,” she said.

“So, I guess they are a couple?” I suggested.

“Yes, I let them use me for cover.  When their mom insisted on talking to either of their girlfriends, it was me,” she said.

“I got away with it mostly because I can do girls their age on the phone.  As you can tell I couldn’t pull it off in person.  Mom insisted I come down to Boca for the summer at the compound,” she informed me.  That would have been hard to pull off.  The boys wanted to disappear for a while,” she said.

“Headed for one of those states that allow same sex marriages?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Well since you are the contact for both, have you heard from them?” I asked.

“Yes I have,” she said.

“Can you put me in touch with them?  You can dial the phone, I just need to talk to Tony,” I said.

“Give me your number and I’ll have them call you tonight,” she said.  “It might be late.  They are in a different time zone,” she said.

“Tell Tony, if I found you his daddy’s men can as well.  They will be a lot rougher with their questions.  I might can help him work this out, but I need to be sure he is okay,” I said.

“I’ll tell him to call,” she promised.

I sat in my car and called his mother.  “Ms Garcia I have a lead on your son.  According to the information I have now, he is safe.  To be sure I need to talk to him.  I think I can get him on the phone, but I need to ask him a question that only he could answer.  Can you give me a question?”

“Ask him his pony’s name.  The one he got for his tenth birthday.  It’s name was Paint,” she said.

“Is he alright Ms Porter?” she asked.

“If my information is good, he is not in any danger.  I will know more tomorrow and I promise I will call you,” I said.

“Thank you, I will be expecting to hear from you tomorrow,” she said.

I called Wilson.  “Really Wilson, a fifty year old lover and you didn’t think I needed to know that?” I asked.

“Come on I have to have some fun.  I’m cooped up here on this computer while you are out having fun,” he said.

“Figure out how to do what you do from the road, and you can come along.  In the meantime check for Albert Sampson of Boston.  Get his auto information, the check for either crossing the Mexican or Canadian border anytime after the last day anyone saw him,” I demanded.  That was about a week and a half ago.  Probably going to be around a week ago.

“You think he is on the lamb?” Wilson asked.

“No one has used that expression since Bogart,” I said.

“Okay, you think he is in the wind?” he asked.

“Yes and you have a pretty good idea why,” I said.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said.

“Me too,” I replied.  Get on it will you?  I need that information quickly.”

Wilson called about 10 PM our time to tell me what he had found.  Tony called me about 2 AM.

“How is Mexico?” I asked when he identified himself.

“You are good, how long you been looking for me?” he asked.

“All day today, so who else is looking for you?” I asked.

“Not me but Albert.  His daddy is some kind of big ass politician,” he said.

“Oh my a gay son with a mafia boss’s son for a lover.  That might make him send hit men as well as your dad,” I suggested.

“So who you working for?” He asked.

“Your mom, but before I tell her to stop worrying you tell me what you got for your tenth birthday,” I asked

“I got a pony,” he said.  “Now you tell me a name, so I know you are working for mom not Albert’s family.”

“The pony was named Paint,” I said.

“That’s right, so what do you want,” he asked.

“You need to call your mom and fess up to how things are.”  I paused a second and then added, “All of it.  Do you have it under control?”

“Yes we are both in remission,” I forgot my meds that’s how you knew?” he asked.

“Yes, so either you tell Mom before noon tomorrow my time, or I will do it.  It will sound better coming from you.  I expect she can keep it from your dad.  I can also say I found you, so he won’t send people to talk to me.  To be honest they mostly want to know you are okay.”

I had been at a Waffle House making sure I stayed awake till the call from Tony.  After he promised to call his mom in the morning and hung up, I had a message from Wilson.  Since I had more or less closed the case I almost didn’t bother.

The message said, don’t go to the motel and call me.  Naturally I called.  “So do I have cops,” I asked.

“They look more like New York Mobsters,” Wilson said.

My guess is they are Boston mobsters,” I said.  “Thanks Wilson I owe you.”

“Yes you do,” he said.

“I know the wireless web cam was your idea and I’m grateful.  Now I think I’ll call the police.”

“911 what is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“There is some kind of fight going on in room 17 of the Apple Tree Motor Inn,” I said.

“I drove to the motel room just in time to see the cops pull up.  That’s my room what is going on.  Someone called to say there was some kind of fight in this room.”

“I’ll open the door and you can look.”  When I opened the door there were two men I never saw before.  “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?” That’s how I came to spend my night in the Capitol City Police station.

Edited by Walt

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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10 Responses to Sheriff Porter 61 (edited)

  1. jack says:

    I smell trouble from Boston for sure. A turf war between folrida and Boston. Is Sylvia going to be caught in the middle or be the mediator.

    • cindypress says:

      I doubt it.. They are both looking for the same thing. Missing kids when they all find out what the story is they will probably all go home. Nobody cares about Sylvia.

  2. Allan says:

    I continue to enjoy your work, The story is great and i look forward to it each day. Maybe we could have a little retribution from Miami to fix the dad’s perspective on his son. Hell if Newt could could have a gay daughter why not a son from Boston. By the output and quality of your writing it would seem that you are doing well and I wish you good health. Thank you for your work.

    • cindypress says:

      Thanks Allen they did a tune up on my brain recently and I can think pretty clearly. It had less to do with the tumor and more to do with depression because I have a tumor. Depression can really screw you up.
      After I figured that out I got to work making plans that didn’t include long term care and found I had more time to write. Or I am enjoying the story enough again to write it in conspicuous amounts. Regardless I’m still pretty far ahead in my writing. Take care my friend.

      • Allan says:

        Glad to see you running with the new Cindy 2.0 operating system the upgrade is impressive. Yes my friend I am well aware of depression and not letting it effect my outlook. Some say that It is great that i keep going and my docs say I have an Iron will. Myself I think I am either to busy or to thick to know I should be worried.

      • cindypress says:

        In my case I never gave up but when they gave me my eyesight back my brain started to record better so I had better balance and a slight memory improvement. But like you the docs says I’m already dead just too ornery to lay down.

  3. reltney mcfee says:

    thank you for your story. not porn-y lately, but I keep coming back for some reason…makes me wonder if I’m growing up or something!

  4. retrophil says:

    Gosh, I feel like I’m listening to a personal conversation and imposing if I comment. (Absolutely not a complaint.)
    I actually like the nothingness of the plot-line and it seems like every day is a new day in the life of Sylvia. Wilson is a hoot. I got a John Wayne and “Old guys rule” tee shirt. Wilson is my hero. Hell I’m almost 76 yo but I still remember what young pussy tastes like. Just rambling.
    Glad to hear your health is improving, Cindy. You are an inspiration to this old man.

    • cindypress says:

      always glad to have comments. They are why I do this thing. I am too old to remember the sat movie matinee with the serials but I caught one on line a few years ago and watched all the episode in a week. I had so much fun I decided to try it, That was about two years ago last January. I have published something every day since then. After a while it has become a part of my day.

      I kind of like writing about nothing because it really is the nothing of our lives that define us. I mean being asked to diner with a relative we never cared for much but who is dying. So there you have the invitation do you do the right thing or get even for some smile slight 10 years ago. It isn’t going to make any difference but what you do defines who you are. \

      That why Sylvia spends all day buying Wilson a new car. Or setting up a factory to make old fashioned wooden toy chests/tool boxes. It’s good for the guys to have something to do. She gets the most reliable workers in the world, and preserves a little of the mill culture of the south. It was a small thing that meant nothing to anyone else, but I enjoyed telling the story. ‘

      My god this is turning in another story, the making of a serial writer lol. Thanks for the comment

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