Relic: The Morelville Mysteries - Book 1 Read online

  “It’s a piebald.”

  “A what? It’s a, what do call them… a baby deer… it’s a fawn. Why do you have a stuffed fawn in here?”

  “It’s not a fawn. It’s a piebald. You’re not a P.E.T.A. freak are you?”

  “Pita freak?”

  “P.E.T.A.” I spelled it. “The organization; not the food.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Look, hunting is a way of life around here. I brought a date home one night that freaked out on me when she saw that… Started calling me an animal murderer…”

  “I don’t hunt but my dad and others in my family do. I don’t have a problem with it. I’m a carnivore.”

  “Good to know.”

  She sighed. “We’re getting off track here... again. The pictures?”

  I opened my desk drawer and pulled the envelope out by the edges of the corner. “I don’t know why I’m being careful now. You and I had our hands all over all of this the other day when we were picking everything up off the floor like two rookies.”

  “True that, but don’t think I’m not going to take them and get them checked out anyway.”

  “You know; we do have a perfectly competent lab here.”

  “Which we both know you won’t send them to hence why they’re in a desk drawer in your home.”

  I didn’t reply. She was right again. Damn her!

  Dana took the envelope. “It’s getting late. Since it seems you feel you don’t need any surveillance, I’m going to head back to Cleveland. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have results from these.”

  I walked her to the door… the front door this time. And then, just like that, she was gone.

  Chapter 6 – Dana

  After leaving Mel standing at her front door, I wasn’t in the car two minutes when my cell rang, scaring me out of the reverie, thinking about her, that I found myself in.

  “Hello?”

  “Yo. It’s Antoine.”

  Ah, Freestyle... He’s using his real name instead of his gang name. Maybe he’s going to give up the goods…

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “Yeah. I got something for you but I need protection. I tell you this shit, I got to get out of here man.”

  “Are you in the same place as before?”

  “No man. I hadta git outa there fo’ sure. I’m okay for now but once I start talkin’ I need to be walkin’, you catch me?”

  “Got it. We’re going to have to set up a meet. I’m in the middle of nowhere right now. Can you get somewhere tomorrow night where we can talk?”

  “I’ll work it out. Lem’me buzz you back tomorrow ‘bout the meet.” He hung up.

  I was glad that he called but fearful that his former gang would get to him before I could. I pulled off the road and sent Gene a quick message. I would need a flight to Chicago in the late AM and I would need a contact with the U.S. Marshall’s Service to work out a witness protection deal for Freestyle. First I needed to get back to Cleveland and get whatever sleep I could manage.

  I dreamed I was driving. I dreamt that I drove from Mel’s home, all the way to Chicago. I searched and searched, but I never found Freestyle. I woke up in that state where you’re just not sure what is real and what was just a dream. I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

  I took a cold shower, dressed and packed a small duffle. I took the envelope with Mel’s pictures out of my go bag and put them in the duffle too. Then, I wrote out a quick check to my roommate Cheryl for my half of the rent. Tomorrow was the 1st. It was roughly two weeks to shipment day. I crossed my fingers that whatever Freestyle knew, it would lead me where I needed to go.

  I left the check on the breakfast bar for Cheryl. I tried to remember the last time she and I had crossed paths. I couldn’t. She worked a traditional day shift in the same place every day. I was on the move at all hours. I had once thought a position like hers would be boring. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  Ninety minutes later I was winging my way from Hopkins to Midway. I was embarrassed that I was so drained; I fell asleep on an hour long afternoon flight. I really needed to snap out of it and get my wits about me.

  When I reached my desk in my little cubicle at the Chicago field office, I felt like a stranger. I was out in the actual field so much that I didn’t feel any connection to the place at all. Calls forwarded to my cell. Mail went to Cleveland and official messages went through Gene. Being here today – or anywhere – officially wasn’t a necessity. I just needed a place to sit my butt down and wait on Freestyle’s call so I could move into action.

  After a couple of minutes of waiting for my long dormant computer to boot up, I got antsy and decided to take the photos down to the lab. Agents and other co-workers nodded as I passed. I knew a few but not most. Most of the ones I did know, I hadn’t had contact with in so long, I couldn’t fathom what assignments they were working.

  Chicago had been home for a while. I had been living with Terri, when I finally left it. We had a very stormy four-year relationship that I only managed to extricate myself completely from after she nearly destroyed me financially and after she’d cost me a job. Our relationship had been a mistake from the start but only a few years of distance and a little hindsight had shown me that.

  I had started out my adult life trying to be straight. It took several years of marriage to a man to show me that I wasn’t fooling anyone, especially myself. My ex-husband and I parted amicably enough but I struggled mightily after that with my sexual orientation.

  Terri was the first woman I had a real – if you could call it that – relationship with. Oh, I’d been on dates and I had other lesbian friends but no one I had connected with romantically until she came into my life. Once we became an “official” couple, she instantly took charge of everything that centered around ‘us’ as a couple and she began to monitor my every move. Terri was the epitome of a control freak.

  Getting away from Terri meant giving up most of my friends and giving up “our” home and all of its contents. I’d fared better in my actual divorce.

  To add insult to injury, I was fired from a security job that I loved because of her venomous attacks to get some sort of revenge on me. Upper management just didn’t want to deal with the antics of a scorned lover gone certifiable and I didn’t blame them.

  I retreated for a while and licked my wounds. During a trip home to see my folks in Western PA, I ran into an old high school friend who was working for Customs. After talking with him, I applied and, after several go rounds of questions about why I was let go from my former employer, I was finally hired. The rest, as they say, is history.

  It was only an ironic twist of fate that got me assigned to the Chicago Field Office but, frankly, I spent little time in the actual office and I didn’t venture into any of my old haunts from life with either of my exes when I did.

  The lab was backlogged but not badly. I was told my print analysis would take a couple of days. It wasn’t ideal but, every case is a “rush” case for the agent that needs something and I was starting to believe Mel that the prints they would find would belong to the mysterious “Sally” and not to a currently unknown suspect. I filled out the required forms and then retreated back to my little cube to wait for word from Freestyle.

  My wait wasn’t too long. By 3:00 I had the meeting site set up with him for 10:30 PM – after dark - at an old warehouse in a west suburb. It was well outside of the area controlled by his former gang. I requested and got back-up assistance from a local team. One agent would go in with me. The others would be nearby and ready to go.

  I set up a teleconference with Gene and a rep from the U.S. Marshall’s service. We got a tentative agreement from the Marshall’s to get Freestyle into the witness protection program based on the validity of the information he gave us. Gene had very little else to report. The team had no new leads. Everyone was pinning their hopes on getting new leads out of my clande
stine meeting with the former gang banger tonight.

  My backup for the mission, Lew Conti, and I pulled into a deserted parking lot a couple of minutes before 10:30. We radioed the rest of the team our location. We checked vests and weapons and then dismounted carefully in full view of the few west facing windows there were though they were dark and covered with chain mesh. Someone might be watching our approach.

  We approached the door cautiously but, before we even reached it, a voice that could only belong to Freestyle called out, “Identify yourselves!”

  “Agents Rossi and Conti,” I called back, hoping that my voice would reassure him that it really was me. It must have worked, as the door swung open and Freestyle motioned us inside with a quick wave of his hand. He closed and bolted the door behind us. We were in for a penny or a pound now.

  Freestyle looked me over quickly and then tossed his head toward Conti. “Why he here?”

  “Policy. Agents don’t do night missions alone.”

  The warehouse was a dark and musty smelling cavern. What little I could see appeared to be pretty empty. Freestyle led the way along the entry wall to an office just off the main shop floor on a side wall. A tiny battery powered lamp was the only illumination in the windowless little room.

  “Who else you got out there?”

  “There’s a back-up team that can roll fast.”

  “So you’s are wired?”

  “Mic’d, yes.”

  “I dunno man. I don’t like being played like this here.”

  “Look, we have to do what we have to do. There’s a protection plan in the works for you. You keep your end of the deal and I’ll keep mine.” I paused for a beat and let that sink in. Then I asked, “Are we square?”

  Lew stood strong and silent to my left flank, foot braced against the now closed office door. I stood in front of the makeshift pallet table Freestyle had his little lamp and a couple of crushed Red Bull cans sitting on. He’d been here awhile and he was wired up on energy drinks and who knows what else.

  We played a staring game for what seemed like an eternity but really was probably only a matter of seconds. Finally, he broke the silence.

  “Man, I needs to get outta this town. Tell me what I gotta do.”

  “What do you have for me?”

  “Why are you looking for Relic man? Relic is bad news.”

  “Relic isn’t going to be your problem anymore.”

  He was quiet for several more seconds then he started telling his story. “I spent most of the last two years in the joint. While I was down, J-Dawg took over my crew. We was doin’ mostly meth then.” He eyeballed Lew. Conti didn’t move and I didn’t interrupt.

  “J-Dawg had dollar sign dreams man. He didn’t want to keep pushing five dollar bags to junkies. He wanted cut in on the big money goods ops that some other crews were workin’.”

  “So?” Gangbangers’ wanting more green in their pockets wasn’t news.

  “You just don’t step on the toes of other crews man. You gotta work the system.”

  “Where does Relic enter the picture?”

  “Man in the cell next to mine worked for Relic’s crew doin’ those sorts of runs. Says Relic set him up to take the fall for a hit. He wanted revenge. He said he could pass information to J-Dawg that would help him seize control of part of a big smuggle op from Relic’s crew.”

  “What info did he pass?”

  “Nothin’ man. Got shanked the next day. Bled out in the rec yard.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “Unofficially now; guy name of Vincent on Relic’s order. The warden never fingered anybody for it.”

  “That fast?” I was stunned.

  “Hell yeah, that fast! Why you think I need outta here so quick like? Word gets out…” He trailed off, shook his head and then picked right back up, “I get the same! Damn!”

  “Where can I find Vincent?”

  “No clue man. He went invisible when he got out’ the joint ‘bout a month ago. He might’a been offed too.”

  I’d have to look at the visitor logs and see who might have delivered the hit order to Vincent before the murder of the other prisoner. If I could find the messenger that delivered the order, I had a path to Relic. It was a slim lead but more than I had before.

  “So how you getting’ me outta here?”

  “Marshall’s service will be extracting you. I’m sorry but it won’t be tonight. Give me another day and I’ll be in touch with details. Be prepared to give a pickup location tomorrow.”

  I didn’t make enough to maintain a crash pad in two cities. I checked into an extended stay hotel for the night on the agencies dime. I figured on being in town a couple of days to follow up on my lead and to ensure Freestyle got what I promised him.

  Sleep was slow to come. I kept thinking about finally having a direct link to Relic. Even if I couldn’t find enough evidence to link him to the whole smuggling operation, I had him on murder one for ordering the prison hit. One way or another, a loser would be off the street. I would though do whatever it took to get enough information out of him to bring the whole ring down.

  I thought also about Mel’s stalker. She was a big girl and a seasoned police officer. I knew she could handle her situation but there was her sister and her kids to think about too. She really needed some back up. I desperately wanted to ensure that her stalker was in no way related to my smuggling investigation.

  I had a job to do and Mel was just the sort of distraction that I didn’t need but couldn’t seem to help thinking about. I needed to find the major players in this, shut down the whole shooting match and then get the heck out of Ohio and away from her, for good.

  Chapter 7 – Mel

  I planned on starting my day by going out and rousting Travis Stearman to question him about the wad of twenties that Eddie saw him getting from the tattooed guy we couldn’t pinpoint in the mug shots. When I got to the office though, I had a visitor waiting to see me. An agent had arrived on assignment from the Secret Service. He was here to look into the fake twenties that were surfacing around the county.

  He stood when I walked in. I’m a tall woman but he had me by several inches. He was easily 6’6” or more. He was the stereotype of a movie worthy G-man: black suit, perfectly creased, a close cut of his sandy colored hair, squared off jaw and broad shoulders. He had hidden his eyes behind dark aviator sunglasses but he removed and pocketed them when I approached him.

  I may be gay but I sure wasn’t blind. The guy was a looker. My assistant Holly, a sheriff’s deputy herself, and usually a very competent, unflappable one, was swooning visibly. I shot her a look. She just grinned and fanned herself just outside of his line of vision – or so she hoped.

  “Sheriff, I’m Agent Webb.”

  “I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you but understanding the circumstances that bring you here…” I trailed off and gave Holly another teasing look. “Why don’t we talk in my office?”

  He followed me in and took a seat. I spun the combination for my locked files and pulled out the file folder of clear evidence bags with each of the twenties I’d confiscated so far and handed them across the desk to him. “I have the details of where those were last passed and the contact information for those involved in passing them.”

  He looked each bill over; front and back. “These are pretty high quality work. I’ll have to have them examined and compared against stuff we’ve already seized to know if it’s related or if we’re dealing with a new printer.”

  I thought about Travis and what Eddie had seen but, really, the twenties could have been from anything and not actually counterfeit. I’d alerted all the merchants in Zanesville when the fake bills started surfacing. Many merchants were checking all of their bills now. Travis hadn’t been caught with any so maybe he wasn’t passing funny money but up to something else that probably wasn’t legal or above board. I decided I really needed to talk to Travis before I said anything to Webb.
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  “Do you do a lot of counterfeit money investigations?”

  “Not these days. Since the appearance of most of the bills changed drastically several years back and certain security features were added, it’s a lot less common.”

  “What else can I help you with here?”

  “I’ll need to follow up with the people involved in the passing and receiving of these bills and then with anyone they lead me to. That should keep me busy for a couple of days while our lab analyzes these. Do you have a place where I can conduct private interviews if I need to?”

  “Sure. Feel free to use anything here that you need to. I’ll have Holly show you around.”

  He handed me his card. “Any leads or any more bills surface, please call me. I’m staying here in town for at least a few days.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you Sheriff. I’ll check in with Holly now.”

  I’ll just bet you will…

  He rose and took his leave. I closed the door behind him. I wanted to get a little paperwork done before I went about running down Travis Stearman.

  There was a manila envelope in my inbox. I sat back and stared at it. My stomach did a flip flop. I shook my head. I shouldn’t be afraid of a damn envelope. It could be anything!

  I pulled out a pair of evidence gloves, put them on then carefully pulled the envelope out of the pile of mail in the box. Other than having my name on it, there was nothing remarkable to identify it. It was a thicker package than the last time but much lighter.

  It was closed with the clasp only. Whoever sent it hadn’t licked the gummed flap to seal the envelope. I opened it very carefully to preserve so much as even a partial print on the clasp. I peered inside. It was a piece of clothing of some kind.

  Holding the envelope by the edges, I turned it upside down letting the cloth slide out onto my desk. It was a pair of my boxer shorts.

  My first reaction was to be stunned. Then, as I realized that Sally had invaded my home – our home – I grew angry. Her stalking was escalating and her boldness was coming at the expense of the privacy of my family and the sanctity of our home. I wasn’t having it.

  The phone rang, jolting my thoughts back to business and away from my personal life. I slid the briefs back into the envelope as I answered, “Sheriff Crane.”