Falling Down by Chris James    Falling Down
by Chris James

Chapter Eight

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Falling Down by Chris James
  Drama
  Sexual Situations
  Rated Mature 18+

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The weekend dragged along on all fronts, except Bill and Ed spent the time reviewing the case. They went over the reports and made a list of things they wanted to know and others they had a right to know through the discovery process.

The DA's office had delivered further documentation on Friday afternoon including crime scene photos. Sonny had combed through them declaring it inadequate. The coroner had some blood and tissue samples leftover from Stan's autopsy, but those had still not been tested for drugs…they would be now.

There were no powder swabs taken from either of the victims and now it was too late. Stan had been buried after the funeral home was paid by the family and so he had been embalmed and quickly put in the ground without fanfare. That process would have eliminated any means of testing the body even if they exhumed the bastard.

Susan Witherspoon had been cremated, end of story. There was an outstanding bill of four thousand dollars for processing her remains and Bill planned to pay it to keep the crematorium from going to court and attaching the house for lack of payment. Bill was sure the Sheriff was responsible for urging the county to do this. Add that to the list for payback.

But in reviewing the case files Bill and Ed built up documents for the defense's presentation in court. They left holes to plug in further information as it became available because they both knew this was not over.

The photos were graphic but added no new issues to the list they already had. Tim's mother had indeed been sprawled out on her back with a hand pointing in the direction of the wall where they had found the bullet hole. But the pistol was not there and only one person could have removed it, unless Marsh was lying.

Just finding evidence to nail the Sheriff would not stop a court from sitting in judgment of Tim's actions. But if they could sow enough doubt on the prosecution's case against him then Bill would hold more cards in his game with Barbara Lowe.

"Oh sweet," Ed said at one point. "Did you see this list?"

Bill looked up from his review of the photos. "List of what?"

"The coroner's evidence. They took swabs from Stan's body, specifically his penis because he was naked from the waist down. They were probably looking for traces of semen to match against the woman. But once they determined she'd not had sex they put it aside."

"How does that help us?" Bill asked.

"Tim…we know he had sex with Tim and the boy's DNA may very well be on that swab," Ed said. "We need to have it tested. It will prove the rape."

"You don't think he used a condom?"

"Tim would know but we never asked him."

"I'll add that to the list which is getting longer by the minute," Bill said. "We need a break and that would certainly help."

This is where things stood by the end of the work session. Bill was going to seek a plea bargain with the DA for a lesser charge than murder. Tim had admitted to shooting Stan but a jury might see that as self-defense after all the facts were presented. The drug tests on Stan's blood and Tim's hair would work in their favor if they came up positive.

The big unsolved issue was the murder of Tim's mother. The prosecution might accept that she had a pistol but claim she had been shooting at Tim to defend Stan. But it was also the least plausible of the scenarios and at the moment Barbara didn't even know it existed. They needed to find that pistol.

Tim spent the weekend in activities with the other boys. His friendship with Alan was welcome and yet confusing. The attachment they had formed allowed some pretty open discussion and some of that was about sex. In all that talk Alan confided some of his deepest secrets just to see if Tim would be shocked.

Alan's molesting uncle had his way for a while and then moved on as the boy grew older. It seems the man only liked the young ones, and there were others in the family he could prey upon. He did just that and got caught. The man was still in prison and Alan though it would be completely ironic if they met up behind bars.

But puberty had only encouraged Alan's bad behavior and he discovered his proclivities were worth money, something his mother couldn't provide. They were all older men who adored his young body almost as much as he did. His hair was long and the reflection in the mirror seemed to call his name at every glance.

Older men paid good money although their sexual prowess was generally lacking. The activity never lasted long and Alan began to realize he was in control during the encounters. It was how one man introduced him to another and Alan had a handful of men to fawn over him and buy him things. It was good to be adored.

Alan had revealed all this to Doc but never in group so Tim was admonished to keep it secret. There were still several men out there who would resume the activity if Alan contacted them. Only now that he knew about the hormone therapy he had a use for the cash in paying for it. Tim didn't think this was a very good idea.

This approach to solving the issue was something Tim could not understand. He didn't think Alan was gay in that all he did was allow his body to be used by these men without any feelings attached to the act.

Gay meant understanding that sex with another male ought to be filled with emotions and mutual contact. Just being a receptacle for someone else's cock didn't make you gay, there had to be give and take…that's why it was called a relationship.

The assaults by Stan were selfishly one sided. He had only wanted to feed his own desires. But Tim had come to understand that his body could react favorably to stimulation even if it was for all the wrong reasons. That kind of sex never filled his dreams and never would. If he was gay it was for other reasons.

His masturbatory fantasies didn't include females, and although he had spent some time considering several of his friends naked, that didn't always do the trick. He'd tried thinking of Alan several nights ago but that fantasy was tainted by the secret knowledge he'd been told. No, Alan was never going to be anything but a friend.

But the thought of older men was there and so his mind turned to Bill. The hugs they had shared weren't sexual but very emotionally appealing. It was that emotion which got Tim into thinking about the man and his body. Bill was fit and muscular he supposed, although he had never seen the man in anything but a suit and tie.

The thought of watching Bill undress was stimulating and Tim rode the wave of excitement. Having sex with Bill would be a gentle act with lots of kissing and touching. Tim already knew what kind of sex he wanted and as his mind manufactured the fantasy his body responded leaving him with a mess to clean up.

As he lay in bed Tim wondered if such an encounter was even remotely possible. Was it fair to use Bill as fantasy material? Perhaps not since the man had never given him any indication of sexual interest. But Tim understood that Bill would be around in his life for some time to come which meant he could continue to dream.

Events were moving forward in Tim's life and for the first time he felt more in control. Life with his mother and Stan had been completely chaotic and subject to the whims of their drug addled minds. His own drug use had been minimal and aimed at escaping the reality around him.

But Barnhill and Doc Moore presented a new reality, a stepping stone towards the future. Tim felt like he could tell the man anything and have it be accepted as truth. There was no reason to lie about anything, the truth was bad enough.

Tim was still awake at midnight when Simon made his rounds. He didn't know the man that well because they had only spoken once when he unlocked the door at six in the morning. But Tim could see progress because they didn't lock his door anymore. Although there was nowhere to go, he had been here less than a week and it showed they trusted him.

Yes, Barnhill felt safe and helped stave off the fears he had of prison. Would they really lock up a fifteen year old boy in some huge dungeon with major criminals? It seems they would and Bill had never lied to him about that.

But Tim had faith in the men who were on his side. Just like the white knights and heroes he had read about in books they protected him…and that was enough comfort to allow Tim to drift off to sleep.

Sunday morning was a quiet time around town, especially at dawn. People wouldn't be up and moving around until later as many of them prepared to attend church. But Ed and Bill had been awake since four o'clock, eaten a quick breakfast and left the apartment before the sun was up.

Ed drove the Jeep towards the jailhouse and the Sheriff's office. It would be the end of the night shift and any deputies on duty would be tired and ready to go home. He drove past the jail, turned onto the access road that lead around behind the impound lot, and they were quickly out of sight behind a clump of trees.

The gates to the lot were on the front side facing the offices and maintenance garage, but they would be securely locked at this time of night.

"Can you get in there without being seen?" Bill asked.

"The lot is designed to house cars not people. Their security lighting is poor so if there are cameras they can't see the back rows of vehicles," Ed said.

He strapped a dark canvas pouch around his waist and flipped a switch on the dashboard that disabled the interior lights of the Jeep.

"This should only take a few minutes," Ed said and opened his door.

Bill sat in the dark, contemplating the silent presence of the trees. He could see the floodlights on the back of the jail and a little bit of the chain link fence. He wasn't sure how Ed was going to get under it, or would he try to go over? Before he knew it Ed had returned and slid back in the Jeep.

"Piece of cake," He said.

"Where did you put it?"

"On top of the gas tank. The bottom of that truck is dirty but the top of the tank was fairly clean. These gizmos are designed for harsh environments and the magnet is real strong. Just set the box on top of the tank and press a button which activates the signal. Now let's see if it works."

Ed pulled a case out from under his seat and opened it to reveal a Dell tablet which he turned on. A couple of swipes and a poke connected to the internet and brought up the GPS program. Bill saw the map image which Ed zoomed in and there on a graphic of the town was a pulsing red dot.

"There you go, now the Sheriff is all wired up. Tomorrow when he takes off I'll be able to follow him from a mile or two away so he'll never see me. You can watch, too, if you like."

"How would that work?"

Ed handed Bill a card. "Just log online, go to this website and type in the code on that first line. You'll get the same image I see."

"What's this other code?"

"The Jeep," Ed said. He reached up to the headliner over the windshield and slid open a piece of the molding. Bill could see another of the GPS units fixed in place.

"I usually activate it when I have to leave the Jeep some distance from a target. Nothing worse than doing a good job and then not being able to find my way back to the getaway vehicle. Been there, done that…totally embarrassing."

"Sun is coming up," Bill said.

"Let's roll."

The rest of Sunday was also quiet and belied the tense chain of events which were due to begin the following day. The sky was clear and bright, although the temperature was going to peak at eighty-two that afternoon. This close to the mountains they never had a really hot summer season, but the tourists who passed through the area had no idea what lay ahead in the frigid snows of winter.

Sheriff Barnes took his wife to church just to be seen among the religious who thought him a pious man and thus voted for him at every election. They finally left church after a plethora of Amen's and headed out for a family barbecue. Barnes was looking forward to seeing Cassie although he always drank too much when she was around.

Travis Marsh sat under the awning behind the house his father had built sixty years ago and drank his first beer of the day. There would be quite a few more before his father set about grilling the hamburgers and hot dogs. He could hear his sister singing a silly song with her two young kids in the kitchen through the open window behind him.

Marriage had been good for her although Travis had yet to find that special someone who would change his life. But he had other things on his mind, like the situation he had encountered on Friday with the lawyer and that private investigator. He had told Barnes there had been nothing new to worry about. It had all been a total waste of time.

Perhaps if Barnes was discovered to be in the drug business and went to prison there would be a lot of changes in the county. Not that Travis seriously considered running for sheriff. That was a pipe dream, at least for now. All right, he did have that college degree which would make him qualified, but he was barely thirty years old. He finished the beer and went inside for another.

Tim and several of the boys were outdoors but inside the heavy chain link enclosure playing basketball. He really wasn't much of a jock, but then neither were the others. They all shot and missed more times than they scored. Mike was the tallest although Alan had the most skill. Tony and Jimmy just seemed to get in the way of one another which caused a lot of laughter.

The crime syndicate, as they referred to the other five boys on the dorm, played on their piece of the court but at the other end. Word had spread that they were going to have their own group starting next week and that made them feel special.

There was a little tension between the two groups because Tony had overheard his guys being called the pervert squad. But Mike had laughed it off saying perhaps they were afraid of bending over around Doc Moore's boys.

There was no concern about any fights breaking out, security was always watching. Alan had told them that any altercations and the riot team would appear armed with Tasers. That would dampen anyone's urge for combat. Security guards aside, all the boys were more afraid of disappointing Doc.

Evan Moore spent Sunday morning with his wife, swapping pages of the thick newspaper and chatting about the stories they found. They would spend the day in the garden, speak on the phone with the grandkids in Phoenix and then have a leisurely dinner. This is how Sunday's were supposed to be.

State Police Sergeant Connors was enjoying the end of his three day vacation. Tomorrow would begin another seven day cycle of patrol and paperwork. Seven on, three off, the price he paid for having those three stripes on his sleeve. There weren't enough sergeants to go around until the academy churned out a bunch of new recruits.

Tomorrow he would head for Beaver County to review safety procedures at the county jail. Their required paperwork had not been flowing into the state offices in a timely manner. It was an absurd use of uniformed power but his appearance always seemed to do the trick and solve problems.

It might take more than a day so he would spend the night at the Front River barracks. One of the older state police facilities it still had some amenities he enjoyed, especially the steam room. The town was a good place to shop and his birthday was coming up so that was a good excuse to buy something he wanted. Connors had the first days of his patrol all figured out.

Ed decided he didn't want to spend Sunday in his motel room so he finagled an invite out of Bill to stick around and watch ESPN sports programs. Bill would watch tennis because he had played a bit of that in school, while Ed preferred boxing or any kind of combative sports.

They spent the morning sitting around reading the papers and drinking coffee, but by lunchtime they were in front of the television. They had agreed not to talk business and that lasted all the way until about one o'clock when Sonny called to say her mother was in the hospital and she would not be at work the following day.

"She's one tough cookie," Ed said after Bill hung up.

"I couldn't do without her. She always seems to be one step ahead of me."

"Women are good at that, have been ever since Eve got Adam to take a bite of that apple. Otherwise we would have been stuck in paradise and never learn how to cope with the world."

"Now there's a convoluted view of life," Bill laughed. "How come you never got married?"

"Almost did back when I was in school. It didn't work out and I ended up being married to the Army. Women are such…such a distraction for a guy trying to go places."

Leon would have agreed, but then he had been distracted by a woman for the past four days and enjoying every minute of it. In her eyes he was a fine specimen of manhood and he had been trying to prove that theory in bed since they met in a bar several nights ago.

Front River was an up and coming town but it had a seedy side as well. Leon had started bar hopping the minute he hit town and kept at it until he met Janelle standing behind one of those bars. He had money and she liked that. He was big and she liked that better. Besides, that eye patch made him look mysterious and a bit dangerous.

It wasn't until Saturday that Leon returned to his senses and began to shop around for some much needed supplies to take back to the lab. He loaded the pickup and thought about heading back to his camper, but she got in the way once again.

He'd told Barnes he'd be back to work on Monday, but he had a few dollars left so Janelle wanted him to stay for another night. Leon was still pretty drunk when he left town late Sunday night and drove the thirty miles in a fog of alcohol. He was amazed that he didn't run off the road but he made it back to his camper and crashed.

The lab could wait were his final thoughts as the sun came up on Monday morning. Maybe Barnes wouldn't show up on time. That would be best since he was too exhausted to work. He fell asleep and would remain that way throughout the day…or at least most of it.

His mind had been pretty well made up during the course of his sleepover with Janelle. Leon had decided to get out of the drug business. He wasn't a fool to think Barnes would allow such a move without resistance. They were making good money, or at least Barnes was raking in the cash. He'd paid Leon a thousand dollars for every batch so far. A paltry sum considering what the meth was worth on the street.

Taking advantage of an ex-con, Leon thought, and when the party was over he didn't think Barnes was going to let him walk away. Perhaps there had been others in his position but Stan had said nothing. It was Leon who found the unmarked graves when he situated his camper back up in the woods and went out to dig a latrine.

The bodies hadn't been buried that deep and Leon had recoiled at the stench which rose up from the hole he had begun to dig. You didn't need half a mind to know that Barnes was responsible for the dead men but Leon had said nothing to Stan or the Sheriff.

Stan had left a 30-06 rifle in the lab in case anyone came prowling around but Leon wasn't a hunter and with only one good eye he didn't trust being able to hit a target with the rifle. Instead he had bought a 9mm pistol on the street in Front River and picked up a box of bullets when he purchased the new batch of propane. He would have to try firing the weapon out back in the woods.

Until then it was under his mattress in the camper since a felon wasn't allowed to own a firearm. Still, he always kept the rifle close at hand in case some big piece of wildlife intruded on the site. Ya never knew…there were bears out here in the woods.

He knew that if Barnes even hinted that he thought Leon was a liability the plan was to shoot the sheriff and dig a hole. He would be long gone before anyone came looking for the man. Perhaps for good measure he would burn the lab trailer and destroy the evidence.

So here it was Monday morning and Bill awoke at his usual early time and immediately wondered about Ed. They had tired of television yesterday and sat around playing cards until dinner time. Bill had offered to cook but Ed begged off. He would stop off somewhere on the way back to the motel but he had to check his gear before an early start in the morning.

"You be very careful, Ed. This man is dangerous and that badge gives him a lot of power to abuse."

"I know all about the abuse of power," Ed had replied. "I'm a careful kind of guy."

At least he was now. It was good to know he could trust Bill. Back when he was a hotshot in CID he had trusted his boss, the Major. The man had laid out the evidence they had against a high ranking officer in the supply chain. It seems this Colonel on the west coast was selling military arms to gun dealers.

Ed was chosen because he would be a stranger in California. He went about infiltrating the Colonel's command, masquerading as a supply sergeant. It worked for a while and he saw things happening but waited for the big moment…which never came. Instead he was recognized as a policeman.

He was captured and confined by the Colonel's men, one of them the rat who had remembered the CID Captain from Ft. Bragg. The odds on that happening were enormous, Ed thought, they were in frickin California. But then one day the door of the room in which he was kept was unlocked and nothing happened.

It took Ed several hours before he worked up enough courage to step through that door, wondering when the bullets would find him. But they had secured him in an old concrete building on the post firing range and there was not a soul in sight.

The Colonel and his men had used the time creatively. Ed went to the military police command to make his report and was promptly arrested. There were documents in his kit and a pile of cash, all pointing at his involvement in illegal arms sales.

The Provost Marshal, a full bird Colonel, listened to Ed's story and reviewed his CID credentials. He released Ed and shipped him back to Bragg. It all came down to his Major not having balls enough to confront a Colonel, but he did get the charges dropped.

Ed resigned his commission, put on his civvies and waited for the Major to leave the post. He ran the man's car off the road, dragged him from behind the wheel and almost committed the crime of assault. Instead he dropped the Major on the ground and walked away, the first good move he could make as a civilian.

Six months later Ed had his PI license and a lot of money. The military police in California had never relieved him of the money planted in his duffel bag. His luck was changing as he left the Carolinas and drifted west.

Bill rolled out of bed and started the coffee maker, and then he set his laptop up on the kitchen table and turned it on. He brought up the website, typed in the code and waited for the GPS signal to register. The Sheriff's truck was still in the municipal impound lot.

Bill had his coffee and fried up some eggs to have with his toast. It seemed sneaky but he wondered where Ed was. He entered the code for the Jeep and waited for the signal to be detected. Ed was on the move and parked in a diner out by the Interstate. Bill resisted calling Ed's cell phone and put his dishes in the sink. Barnes would have to go right past there on his way towards Beaver County but they had no idea when he would leave.

Bill put the laptop on standby and went to take his shower. He couldn't sit there all day and watch what was going on. There were other things that he had to do. He needed a judge's order to get the coroner to run a DNA test on swab number eleven. Ed had said the best way to do that was to send it out to a private lab in Denver. But Bill would have to foot that cost so it was better to force the county to do it.

Sonny was out today so Bill would have to call Parker's clerk. He dressed and carried his coffee mug and laptop downstairs, being the first one there. He reviewed the list they had made on Saturday and Bill went to work. The order to the coroner was fairly easy because they had a form for that in the office database.

Candice stopped to chat on her way down the hall but said nothing important. Tom Isakson dropped in around nine o'clock and placed the Peterson file on the corner of Bill's desk.

"I know he's an asshole but let's stick with him for the time being," Tom said. "So how's your little side thing going?"

"Ed should have something for us later today. How well do you know Dan Meeks?"

"How well does anyone know the District Attorney? You've seen him in court, he's a straight shooter. Why do you ask?"

Bill sat back with a sigh. "I may present him with something that is going to blow a hole in my Witherspoon case and he's going to be pissed off. Not at us, thankfully, but if my theory proves to be right the Sheriff is going to jail, just not his own I hope.

"If that happens every drug arrest and conviction in the past five years is going to come under scrutiny and a lot of them will get overturned. Dan is going to tear his hair out over the cost and depth of the Sheriff's betrayal. He may want to lynch me."

Tom whistled and took a seat. "Is it that bad?"

"Worse thing to hit this county in I don't know how long. We'll probably get a commendation from the Bar Association and the lawyers around here will be all over this, but so will the media. We may have to hire a security guard."

"I've never told you to hold back, Bill. If you have the evidence then give Dan the straight facts. He may not want to hear it but he'll listen. We didn't elect the Sheriff, I doubt if any of us voted for him. Dan will send him straight to hell if he can, or at least to Ravenswood. No, you do what you have to, and with my blessing."

Tom got up to leave and paused by the door. "Today you say? What's afoot?"

Bill motioned him over and pulled up the GPS programs on his laptop. The red dot for the Sheriff's pickup was on the move.

"That's the Sheriff and we have a tracer on his truck," Bill said.

"Is that legal?"

"Probably not, but this is our PI at work. We have reliable information that Barnes is on his way to a piece of land he owns in Beaver County. I think he's got a meth lab out there and people running it. We can prove that Stan was manufacturing drugs but we can't tie the two of them together. Today we may find that connection."

Tom gave him a look of trepidation. "This is dangerous, but I guess you know that. If Barnes catches on to what you're doing he'll come after you. Neither of us trusts the man."

"When I finish work today all my files containing this information are going in your safe," Bill said. "We have a contact inside his office, a deputy. He's told us a lot so far but if anything happens to me I'm sure he'll spill all the information he has."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, you've been a good partner. But this drug angle with Stan and the Sheriff…that affects your Witherspoon case?"

"Motive is now self-defense. I'm going to force the ADA to accept a plea bargain for manslaughter with extenuating circumstances. The boy was drugged and he didn't know what he was doing or even how it all happened. I think we can prove Stan killed the boy's mother which will shut down the case for the prosecution."

"That's a back room deal if I ever heard one," Tom said. "But Tim will be just a minor consideration for Dan and the ADA if Barnes is busted."

"That's what I'm hoping," Bill said. "Your buddy Eli would just love to preside over a trial with Barnes sitting behind the defendants table."

Tom laughed and shook his head. "Eli won't get his wish. They'll take this case straight to the state capital. Can you imagine what a jury would do to him here once this hits the news? We haven't had a lynching for over a hundred years. Good luck."

Bill could hear Tom laughing as he went down the hallway. The man was right. They wouldn't have a trial for the sheriff here. He looked at the screen on his laptop and saw the red dot heading out the Interstate towards the mountains. Bill didn't even have to look because he knew Ed was right behind.

On to Chapter Nine

Back to Chapter Seven

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"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.


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