Ed was pleased, Bill had brought the coffee. It was also a real compliment to his ability with the disguises that Bill did a double take when Ed parked beside him.

"Ed…you get better at this all the time," Bill said. "Is that a toupee?"

"Of course it is," Ed replied, sliding a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on his face and setting his forensics case in the back seat of Bill's car.

They sipped the coffee and Bill looked at his watch. "We have twenty minutes. I wonder who Barnes sent to meet us."

"My guess is Marsh. He can answer questions about discovering the bodies, although he may not be happy to answer some of the new questions I intend to ask. Oh yeah, my name is Julian Higgs and I'm on loan from the FBI. I did my training in Iowa and headed up the CSI lab in Des Moines."

"Jeez, that's a heavy resume," Bill said.

"If you can't dazzle them with brilliance then baffle them with bullshit. I doubt if any of these deputies has had a feebie in their midst before. Just the initials FBI usually makes county police cringe. But I'll be nice to him."

"He saw you in the bar. Isn't this risky?" Bill asked.

"He's the key to discovering what Barnes is up to so it's worth the risk. I bet he's secretly pissed off that the Sheriff took over his investigation. But if it is Marsh I'm going to give him a good education today. Then we'll convince him that my exam of the crime scene has turned up all kinds of things we weren't told. If he gets nervous enough he'll blow his cookies and switch to our side."

"You are so devious."

"I've been told that," Ed said.

The house had belonged to Mrs. Witherspoon and at one time it might have been nice but Bill would hardly say that about it now. Sonny had checked the county records and the darn thing was paid off, had been for years. Perhaps when her husband had been killed she did the right thing with the insurance money before her life ran off the tracks.

All that meant is that Tim was now the sole owner of the property even though he may not set foot in it again. I wouldn't in his shoes, Bill thought as they pulled in behind the patrol car. The boy ought to sell it and put all of this behind him.

Deputy Marsh had his own coffee but they all left their cups in the cars which was good protocol for what was still a crime scene. That was evidenced by the yellow police tape stretched across the doorway and the orange sticker on the door that forbid trespassing.

"Good Morning, Corporal," Bill said.

"Mr. Metzger," Marsh said, shaking his hand and looking at Ed without a glimmer of recognition.

"Julian Higgs," Ed said.

"Hello, Mr. Higgs, and what is your position with the defense in this case."

Ed didn't blink as he pulled out his Iowa CSI badge and made sure the FBI card was right beside it. Bill watched Marsh's eye grow large as he took in the qualifications.

"FBI?" Marsh said, and almost choked on the word.

"Not today, but Bill must have friends in high places because the lab sent me down here. It seems there were some issues with the forensic examination of this crime scene. Bill has agreed to share everything we discover with your DA, that's fair."

Marsh nodded and pulled out the keys to the door. He sliced the crime scene tape with a pocket knife and they pushed the door open. The coroner's men had removed the garbage for examination but the house still smelled horrible.

Ed set his kit down in the front hallway and removed a box of latex gloves which he handed around, even Marsh took a pair. Ed unfolded a lab coat that was covered in pockets which he proceeded to fill up with various tools of the forensic trade.

"Let's cut to the chase…where were the bodies found?" Ed asked.

"This way," Marsh said and led them towards the back hallway.

"I guess you know the crime scene has been contaminated by dozens of feet," Marsh said. "The coroner took a lot of samples and dozens of photos."

"I'm waiting on copies of the photographs," Bill said. "But we'll take a few of our own."

Ed handed him a small digital camera and pointed here and there, allowing Bill to take the photos. The carpet in the hallway was stained with blood from where Stan had fallen and bled out. The position of the body had been marked out in tape by the coroner so it was easy to see that Stan had fallen out of the bedroom doorway.

Marsh remained in the hallway as Bill and Ed stepped around the taped profile and into the bedroom. There was fingerprinting dust on most of the furniture and the bed sheets were still crumpled up in a corner of the mattress. Ed pulled out a small device and played ultra violet light on the bed.

"Looking for?" Bill asked.

"Blood traces, semen…Ahh, there we are."

Ed pulled a tube from one of his pockets that had a swab embedded inside. He dipped the swab in a clear liquid and rubbed it over an area on the sheet, then returned the swab to the tube. He took a pen and marked the tube with the location of the sample.

There were a few blood spatters on the wall by the door, and even more on the carpet where it was presumed that Stan was standing when Tim started shooting. Bullets of that small caliber wouldn't make an eruption of blood since they probably didn't even pass through the body.

The shot to the penis had made Stan bleed the most, and from the outline on the floor it was apparent where his crotch was after he fell. The bullets had shattered his ribcage and ripped apart his heart so the rifle was close and aimed. Tim wanted him dead, but then Bill already knew that.

Ed traversed every square foot of the hallway and found no further blood stains. Stan had been shot in the doorway of Tim's bedroom and gone no further. He was dead when he hit the floor.

"And the woman's body?" Ed asked.

"Down there around the corner to the right," Marsh said. He had maintained his position in the hallway. Almost afraid to get involved, Bill thought, or had he already seen too much of this scene when it first happened?

Ed swung his light back and forth to the end of the hallway and turned right. Not hurrying until he came to a section of wall several feet outside the woman's bedroom.

"Blood spatter here," Ed said and Bill took a photo. "I would guess she was standing here when she was shot and not inside the bedroom." He looked the six feet towards where the outline of the body was taped. "And that's where she finally fell."

"She was shot and ran back in the bedroom?" Bill asked.

"No, a headshot like that would be almost instantaneous death. But her heart was still beating and she had the muscle power to stagger backwards until she fell…there," Ed said, pointing at the outline of her body.

He continued the sweep of the hallway with his light and moved into the bedroom. She bled out on the carpet and the blood stain was beside the outline of her head. Ed searched the sheets of the bed but there were no stains here. But then he leaned in closer to the outline, and stretched out his arm.

A small spot on the carpeting attracted his attention, and again he made a swab test. Then he got down on the floor and looked towards the wall from where he had taken the swab.

"Oh yeah," Ed said and got to his feet. He walked over to the wall and got down on his knees. "I need a picture of this," He said. Bill handed him the camera and looked over his shoulder. There in the wall just above the baseboard was a small hole…a bullet hole.

"She fired off a shot while she was lying there. She must have had the pistol in her hand so it would have been a muscle spasm that pulled the trigger. The last thing she ever did," Ed said. "That last swab will probably test positive for gunpowder residue."

"They don't know about this," Bill said. "Should we tell them?"

"You said Tim told the Doc that he heard several pops. Where did the other bullets go?"

Marsh was still around the corner and unaware of what they were doing. Ed stood in the doorway and looked down the hallway. He searched the floor and the ceiling before his eyes came to rest on the corner of the wall where it turned into the bathroom.

"There I think," Ed said.

He approached the corner and saw the two tiny holes in the drywall. "She shot and missed," Ed said.

"Who shot and missed?" Marsh said.

"Okay, it's time to let you in on a few facts that were not in your report, or was it the Sheriff's report?" Bill said.

"I…I never got the chance to finish. Barnes sent me out, told me to take the boy to jail and process him," Marsh said. "He signed the final crime scene report."

"But there was no mention of a small caliber pistol, was there?" Ed said.

"Pistol? No, only that 9 mm we found in the closet, and it wasn't even loaded."

"Let me show you something, Corporal. First off, we have the boy's story that he heard several pops down the hall after Stan finished raping him," Ed said.

"Raping? The man raped him?"

"Countless times," Bill said. "That's why he shot the guy when he had the chance."

"Jesus ... I had no idea," Marsh said.

"And I'm sure the Sheriff doesn't want anyone to know what kind of a pervert Stan was, but look at this."

Bill pointed at the hole in the bedroom wall and Marsh leaned over for a closer look.

"Looks like a .25 caliber bullet hole to me," Ed said. "I would bet the bullet is lodged in the outside insulation behind that hole. And then there is this."

Marsh stared in awe at the tiny hole and then followed Ed back into the hallway, again that look of awe at the two holes in the drywall.

"This isn't in the coroner's report, or the Sheriff's…what the hell?" Marsh said.

"I'd say you have a choice to make, Corporal…you can tell the Sherriff about this or not, pretend we never said a thing to you about it," Bill said.

"The Sheriff is convinced the boy killed them both, but where is the pistol? Why would he remove it from a crime scene?"

"I would bet he has it stashed somewhere," Ed said. "And then there is the issue of the drugs, that's not in the report either."

"The boy said that Stan drugged him with Oxycontin which he kept in a baggie stashed somewhere," Bill said.

"We never found that either. Why would the Sheriff cover up something like this?"

"My guess, he and Stan were doing something illegal and it involves drugs," Bill said. "He wanted to remove any traces to throw the coroner off track, and he did."

"He's gonna be mad we found out," Marsh said.

"I'm not done here," Ed said. "We need to conduct a thorough search, tear the place apart if we have to."

"We can't do that, this is a crime scene," Marsh said.

"That phase is over, the DA already has the final reports even if they are wrong," Bill said. "This house belongs to my client and I have permission to do what is necessary to defend him against these charges."

Marsh had a decision to make. He could try to stop any further investigation or he could become involved. Bill could see the indecision on Marsh's face. It was the breaking point and all the Corporal needed was a small push.

"I want proof that the Sheriff is doing something illegal, don't you?" Bill asked. "I thought you might know about some of his activities, but perhaps he never told you anything. You're a good man, Travis, too good to be working for a crooked sheriff. If he goes down I don't want you going with him."

Marsh nodded. "He is doing something illegal…I know that for a fact. He has all this cash stashed away somewhere. I've seen him pay bribes and there was always a lot of cash on hand when we had the election."

"What I want to know is how Stan ties in with all of that," Bill said. "The answer is here in this house, I'm sure of it…where else could it be?"

"What kinds of activities did Stan share with Barnes, do you know?" Ed asked.

"I dunno. They had family events. The Sheriff plays golf with some of the family but I don't see Stan as a golfer. They went hunting last fall, I remember that. The Sheriff said he was drawing a bead on a big old buck when Stan spooked it and the darn thing ran off. He was pissed about that for days."

"Where did they go hunting?"

"Beaver County, I think, somewhere past Front River. The Sheriff has property up that way right by the state park."

"Interesting…okay, let's search the place," Ed said. "Are you going to help us, Corporal?"

Marsh nodded. "Guess I better. You'll want a witness if you find anything."

Bill smiled. It seems Marsh had made the leap over to the good guys. If this all panned out it might be Sheriff Marsh by this time next year.

Marsh searched the bedroom, turning over the mattress and the box springs to see if anything was stuffed up inside. Ed took the bathroom, checking to see if the medicine cabinet was removable or if anything was stashed under the sink enclosure. Bill went for Tim's room.

He was the first to find anything of interest. The box that had held .22 caliber bullets was empty. Where did the other bullets go? He doubted if Tim was out shooting the rifle off in the backyard, the neighbors would go ballistic over something like that. He would have to ask.

Ed found nothing in the bathroom and joined Marsh in the bedroom.

"Did you search the closet?" Ed asked.

"I did, just some women's stuff and I guess what would pass for Stan's hunting clothes. They didn't have much and he left his dirty old boots in there."

"Dirty? How do you mean?" Ed asked.

"Covered in dust, maybe he didn't use them much," Marsh said.

"Show me."

The boots were worn and dusty, but the dust didn't wipe off, it seemed to be glued in place. Ed sniffed the boots and caught the chemical odor. The dust wasn't dirt, it was chemical residue. That took another swab or two and just as he was about to place the boots back on the floor he noticed something odd.

"Hey, Bill ... go down to the kit and bring me a small pry bar," Ed yelled.

Unlike the carpet in the bedroom, this piece was not pushed into tack strips along the walls. He peeled a corner of the carpet up revealing the wooden floor underneath. Even that looked odd as the flooring didn't seem to go under the baseboard but was cut off short.

"Pry bar," Bill said. "What have you got?"

"A trapdoor I think. Let me just pry up this edge and…"

The tongue and groove flooring came up as one piece about eighteen inches square and down in the hole was a stash box. Ed snapped some photos and then allowed Bill and Marsh to take a closer look.

"Wow, look at all that cash," Marsh said.

"Yeah, but look at all those drugs. We hit the jackpot," Bill said.

"You think…you think the Sheriff took over to try and find this stuff?" Marsh said.

"I think the coroner got here before he could get very far. Maybe Barnes found some drugs and thought that was all. But this…this is a lot of nasty shit," Bill said. "What is it?"

"Crystal meth, the chemicals to make it are all over these boots," Ed said. "Stan was involved in the manufacture of illegal drugs for sale, but this is hardly enough money…where is the rest?"

"I bet the Sheriff could tell us," Marsh said. "That bastard. We're supposed to stop the sale of drugs…this stuff fucks people up real bad."

"I think we need to tell the DA what we've discovered," Bill said. He looked at Ed and gave him a wink. "Then I think you ought to make a call to the DEA. I'm sure you have some friends there."

"Oh yeah, I sure do," Ed said.

"What about the Sheriff?" Marsh asked. "Won't the DEA want to talk to him?"

"Travis, all of this is stuff is Stan's, we can't prove Barnes is involved," Bill said.

"Oh ... damn."

"But Dr. Higgs' report will open up a can of worms about tampering with the evidence, I don't think the DA is going to be a happy man," Bill said. "Look, Barnes is good at making mistakes and we're going to catch him. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon.

"I think you should just lay low, tell him we took samples and it will take weeks to process them in the lab. He expects that so we feed his expectations. He won't feel the heat coming. In fact we don't want him to panic and move his dirty cash to someplace we can't find it. We just need more time, Travis. Can you do it?"

"Yes, I won't tell him anything about the bullet holes or the stash. I just hope this doesn't come back and bite me in the ass."

"It won't," Bill said. "I'll make sure the DA knows how helpful you've been after we nail Barnes. Then I guess we'll have an election without him on the ticket."

Marsh grinned. "Now that would be sweet."

Ed replaced the trapdoor and fixed the carpet in place. It would stay there until the DEA was called which they wouldn't do until Barnes was cornered. If there was a meth lab up there on the hunting property Ed would find it and call in the heavies.

They packed up the kit and stepped outside where Marsh fixed the tape over the door.

"Thank you, Corporal," Ed said.

Travis smiled. "You're good, very good…but I figured you out."

Bill laughed. "I think your toupee is slipping, Ed."

"I thought it was you, but it took me a long time…even the beard fooled me."

"I didn't do this to offend you, Travis. But I couldn't be sure who Barnes would send over here this morning. I certainly didn't want him to know my face if he was the one who showed up."

Travis nodded. "It does look real. So why are you trying to remain so anonymous?"

"I've been following Barnes and I need to keep doing it."

"Okay, you think you'll discover something like that?"

"Well, you keep your ears open. The information might come from you."

"He's got family events all weekend but I heard him tell the clerk he's going hunting on Monday. I don't know what he plans to shoot at, it isn't hunting season. Oh, and he'll be taking that old pickup truck which sits behind the office in the impound lot, you can't miss it."

Ed shook Travis' hand. "You be careful, you hear?"

"I should be saying that to you…Thanks, Ed ."

Bill watched Travis drive away and they got back in the car. Ed sipped his coffee and made a face. "Nothing worse than cold coffee."

Evan Moore had enjoyed himself at the staff meeting. There was nothing he liked better than putting Dr. Neil Loftin in his place. Granted, Neil had some of the most difficult patients in the facility under his care, but he often acted the snob among the staff. He had moved here from New England…one of those Loftins.

But Neil was one of the partners in the Barnhill venture and that gave him enough tenure to gripe about his case load. He wasn't a kid's doctor at all, a bit too Freudian in his practice for that. Evan figured handing him the troublemakers group would broaden his horizons. All psychiatrists needed a challenge to sharpen their skills.

Evan sat at his desk and shuffled paper, read the staff reports, and pondered what Bill had accomplished this morning. He would soon find out since it was almost two o'clock. Tim had seemed fairly bright during lunchtime when Evan made his rounds.

This thing with Alan was not something he planned to encourage. Friendship was to be valued, but not a relationship. Love was a powerful emotion but in the midst of Tim's current situation it could be disruptive. But he was happy to see Alan and Tim siting on opposite sides of the lunch table. Even that short distance between them would keep the emotions in the proper place.

The pizza order had been finalized during the lunch period and Peggy, their dietician, had called it in to Romero's. But Tony had a stack of DVD's on the table and the discussion about which film to watch that evening was well underway when Evan walked in.

Janet Beatty was very clever in choosing which films and books to keep on hand for the boys to view. No violence or at least that was limited, and definitely no sex. In this day and age those two facets of Hollywood's fascination were everywhere in the top films they released. Even the people at Disney were succumbing to the trend.

Feel good movies were few and far between and it wasn't like the boys were oblivious to the restricted choices, but they made the most of the situation.

"Okay, this is How to Train Your Dragon…any comments?" Tony asked, holding up a DVD case.

There were several groans and a few nods. "You know it's a morality play," Mike said.

"When did you see it?" Tim asked.

"In the theater, it's not a new film. But it's a good one if you like animation."

"Vikings and dragons, that all seems a bit too much like a kiddie flick to me," Jimmy said.

"What's a morality play?" Alan asked.

"You know, the story has a lesson in it about good vs. evil," Mike said. "In this case the dragons are misunderstood by the Vikings who are prejudiced against them. And then we have our young hero who discovers how wrong those prejudices are and tries to change things."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Tim said. "Prejudice is something we all understand."

"True," Mike said. "I guess I liked the film because there was a lot of truth in it. Although the young hero finally gets his way he pays a terrible price for winning."

"Enough about the story," Tony said. "We can watch the film and find out for ourselves. Do we agree?"

The consensus was to watch the film and Tony set it aside. "Next offering is an old film, October Sky…any comments?"

It was interesting to watch this mini lesson in democracy at work. Evan credited the dynamics of the group sessions for allowing the boys to take such a calm approach to making choices. But after all, isn't that why they were here? Rational choices after discussing the issue was how most normal people came to conclusions. These were merely normal boys with abnormal desires.

Mike was the oldest boy in the group at seventeen, but that did not make him their leader. Tony might be the most vocal but then he was not interested in leadership. But the dynamic of the group would change next week as it often did. Mike was going home.

This would cause certain anxiety among the others, perhaps envy that Mike was escaping this situation. But his lawyer had managed a plea bargain and the boy was facing two years of probation and then his record would be expunged. It was the best choice, now the boy could go back to school.

A straight A student throughout high school, Mike had allowed the pressure to build up and cause his bad behavior. The boy had walked out of school one morning, gone down the street to the park and declared a break from his stress. Unfortunately that meant taking off his clothing and laying naked in the grass for several hours.

If he had been in an isolated place there would have been few issues with that, but there was a children's playground less than a hundred yards away through a grove of trees. He was discovered by several children who informed their mothers and the cops were called. Mike was sound asleep when they rousted him for the arrest.

Sometimes a boy lucked out, and in Mike's case a good lawyer and a sympathetic judge made all the difference. Now his family could go into counseling and Mike would benefit. His parents had been the source of the pressure to succeed, they would be told to back off and have reasonable expectations. Perhaps it would work.

How wonderful it would be if all the boys at Barnhill could achieve such nice results, but that wouldn't happen. Evan was still ruminating about Mike when his phone buzzed and the front desk announced Bill was on his way up.

Evan had never met Ed before but he liked the intensity of purpose he saw in the man's eyes. The shaved head only added to the mystique and signaled a former military career. Evan had no idea that Bill had driven back to the motel to allow Ed to remove his disguise and shower before coming here.

"Nice to meet you, Ed," Evan said.

"Doctor, how's the boy?" Ed asked.

"Good, assimilating well ... and call me Evan."

"Okay," Bill said. "We certainly have a lot to share with you."

"I was hoping you would," Evan said.

Bill and Ed shared the duty of relating their discoveries of the morning, going back and forth until all the details were revealed.

"So now you tell the DA, Meeks isn't it?"

"Don Meeks, yes," Bill said. "But I want to wait a few days before we lay out our case against Stan. We know the Sheriff is up to something and I think he's involved in this drug manufacturing. With Stan gone he has to have someone else working this production lab and thanks to Marsh I think we have a rough idea where it is."

Evan looked at Ed. "So you're still going to follow Barnes around?"

"It's pretty much the only way to find this lab and tie him into it."

"Risky business," Evan said.

"It's what I do," Ed said and then Evan's phone buzzed.

"Doctor, Witherspoon is in the secure lobby awaiting his appointment," the security guard said.

"We'll be right down." Evan replied. "Gentlemen, since it's such a nice day outside I thought we should take Tim for a walk."

Tim was sitting in the lobby and stood when they came through the door, and the first thing he did was give Bill a hug. This display of affection was genuine, but Evan knew it was also based upon dependence.

"How are you?" Bill asked.

"Good, gonna grow fat in here," Tim said, patting his stomach and grinning.

"This is Ed Avery, he's a private investigator and our secret weapon," Bill said.

Tim looked impressed and shook Ed's hand. "I like your haircut," Tim said, running a hand through the bristles on his own head.

Ed grinned. "I did it for my work, but its growing back."

"Me too," Tim said.

"So, how's about some fresh air," Evan said.

"You mean out there?" Tim said, gesturing towards the gardens beyond the door.

"You're not a security risk, Tim. Besides, I'm the boss around here," Evan said.

"Cool."

Evan slid his pass key in the door's lock and pushed on the handle. Two steps and they were out in the sunshine, and more importantly, the fresh air and privacy of the mansion's garden. As he expected, Evan watched Tim brighten as they walked the pathways through the low hedges and flowerbeds.

The mansion had belonged to one of the silver kings back in the day when mining and westward expansion was still young. But the boom went bust and the mansion had sat idle becoming a cost factor the state didn't want to handle. The doctor's group had picked it for the isolation and the acreage which would allow additional facilities.

They reached the shady grove of trees at the far end of the garden and Evan gestured for them to settle on the benches.

"I have some questions for Tim," Ed said.

Tim nodded. "Okay."

"We visited your house this morning and discovered some things you may or may not know about. There was an empty box that once held .22 caliber bullets. You said there were only ten shots in your rifle so where did the other forty bullets go?"

"Mr. Beacham and Terry took me shooting last fall," Tim said. "Terry and his father live across the street so I've known them for a long time. They go hunting every fall but I've never been because Mom didn't allow me.

"Terry arranged for me to come along and I brought the rifle and the box of bullets, it was full then. The rifle belonged to my real dad and it's about the only thing I have from him. But that was the first time I ever fired it, and Mr. Beacham showed me how.

"We all took turns shooting at a target and when we were done there were only ten bullets left. I know it was bad to leave it in my closet loaded like that, but it sat there for months and I sorta forgot about it."

"But it was leaning against the dresser you said."

"Yeah, it was. I guess Stan knew it was in the closet," Tim said.

"We found some bullet holes in the walls," Ed said. "I think your mother took some shots at Stan with that little pistol you mentioned."

"Yeah, I did hear some pops, but I was pretty messed up."

"You mentioned three pops, does that sound about right?"

"I guess so, but there might have been more. I don't know where my mom got the pistol but I don't think she ever fired it before. If she was high I doubt if she could hit anything."

"I agree," Ed said, and then he looked at Bill.

"Tim, the house is going to be yours since it was all paid off. I don't know if your mother made a will leaving it to you or to someone else. Until we do know let's assume it's yours. The court may try to force a sale to pay for the prosecution costs, but nothing will happen to it until after your trial. So if it becomes yours what are you going to do with it?"

Tim nodded and thought for a moment. "I can't live there…you can burn it down for all I care."

Bill smiled. "About what I thought you would say, but we can't burn it. At some point we can sell it and finance your future."

"You think I have a future? I'm going to prison."

"I won't give you false hope, but we're working to change that."

"I know, Dr. Moore told me. You guys are the greatest," Tim said.

On to Chapter Eight

Back to Chapter Six

Chapter Index

Chris James Home Page

"Falling Down" © Chris James.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

Home Page | Authors | Stories by the Writer Suggested Reading | Suggested Viewing | Links Privacy Policy | Terms of Service Send a Comment All Site Content © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer unless otherwise noted Layout © 2003 - 2024 Tarheel Writer