NOTHING TO LOSE - Angie Bartoni Case File # 5 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES) Read online

  NOTHING

  TO

  LOSE

  Angie Bartoni

  Case File # 5

  By MW Huffman

  Nothing to Lose ©2013 By MW Huffman

  All Rights Reserved

  WaJe Productions

  This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to represent anyone living or dead. The places and timeline may be altered to fit the story.

  “The flaw in being civilized is that it permit’s the uncivilized among us to perpetrate horrific crimes against us in the name of freedom and equality.

  -Unknown-

  Nothing to Lose

  Angie Bartoni

  Case File # 5

  OTHER BOOKS BY MW HUFFMAN

  THE END–BOOK I of The Event Series

  THE BEGINNING–BOOK II of The Event Series

  THE REVELATION–BOOK III of The Event Series

  The Second Civil War–BOOK I-A Nation Divided

  The Second Civil War–Book II-A Nation at War

  The Second Civil War–Book III–A Nation Healing

  Project BlueBolt – BOOK I – American Gulags

  Project BlueBolt – BOOK II - The Gulag Journal

  Project BlueBolt – BOOK III – American Uprising

  REVOLUTION

  THE BRINK

  CLOSE PROXIMITY

  BLACKSTAR

  CHIMERA

  WORLDS END

  SUN BURST

  Sins of the Fathers

  The Unfinished

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 1 - The Alphabet Murders

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 2 - Frost Bite

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 3 - Dead Aim

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 4 - What Goes Around

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 5 - Nothing to Lose

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 6 - Shadow Man

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 7 – The Club

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 8 – Shakespeare Murders

  Angie Bartoni Case File # 9 – One Too Many

  Angie Bartoni Case File #10 – Weak Link

  Angie Bartoni Case File #11 – Vanishing Act

  Angie Bartoni Case File #12 – Victim’s Advocate

  Angie Bartoni Case File #13 – Payback

  Angie Bartoni Case File #14 – Dead on Arrival

  The Logan Files - Blond Deception

  The Logan Files - Innocence and Avarice

  The Logan Files - The Deal Breaker

  The Logan Files – Pain Center

  Norris Files – Insurrection

  Norris Files - Silver2

  CHAPTER ONE

  As a detective I probably fit the real mold better than any cop on television. I can’t solve a crime in thirty minutes or even an hour. I don’t wear a low cut blouse, short skirt, or high heels. About the closest thing to a real female cop on television is the woman detective on the Mentalist television program. She wears sensible shoes, jeans, and a reasonable top. I like her a lot. She is so me.

  My name is Angie Bartoni and I have been a detective for the past eleven years now. I have put a bunch of bad guys away but then some have gotten away as well. I can’t get them all even though I sure the heck would like to.

  Right now I am doing paperwork. I spend almost as much time shuffling paper as I do chasing suspects. What a waste of resources. America is the only country that cuts down trees to make paper so we can write ‘save our forests’ on posters. Something is wrong with that picture.

  I can see out of my peripheral vision that the captain is walking my way. Too late to jump and run to the bathroom, I should have been paying closer attention.

  “Bartoni.”

  “Captain McGregor. I was just enjoying doing this pile of paper work. Would you care to join me and we can swap war stories?”

  “Bartoni I know you think you should be a stand-up comic but believe me, you need to keep this day job if you’re going to eat.”

  “Gosh, and I was thinking of handing you my two week notice.”

  “Save it. Now, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, close your yap for a second. I need to tell you something,” the Captain said.

  Well, how rude. Here we were having a perfectly nice conversation and he goes and says that.

  “You remember Richard Belk, right?”

  “Oh yeah, I remember that creep. Why?’

  “He escaped from Pendleton Penitentiary last night. They found out this morning. I just got the notification.”

  “Oh crap. Belk,” I said shaking my head.

  “I was pretty sure it would spoil your day but look at it this way, you get a break from paperwork now.”

  I gave him the ‘mother to the child’ look. It was wasted because he was already going back to his office. Geez, I hate to waste a good look like that.

  “Richard Belk was a psychopath who killed just for fun. He didn’t really care who it was. He didn’t even know them or care one way or the other. Old, adults, children, and babies were all his targets. If it breathed he didn’t mind killing it. About a million studies had been done on Belk but all they came up with was that he was just a stick bastard.

  Okay, maybe not a million and maybe the technical term isn’t exactly ‘bastard’ but until they came up with a better word I could actually understand, that’s what I called him.

  His preferred method is bombs. There are few things more cowardly than someone who uses a bomb to kill people. First of all you generally kill more than one person. It causes collateral damage and you never really know who you are going to kill in the process. Belk was a coward, pure and simple.

  I was reading about a guy making bombs that had an accident and blew his hands off. If I was a forgiving person I would say that was a real tragedy. Actually, I just laughed and thought it served the a-hole right.

  Belk’s escape meant several things to me immediately. He would be back doing his work just as soon as he possible could. The FBI would undoubtedly be called in because of the escape. Homeland Security might come in because of the chance to grab some glory if they actually caught someone for a change.

  And then there was the other problem. I had nabbed the shit in the first place and I’m sure he wasn’t too happy about that. That’s why the captain gave me the heads up. We both knew he could well come after me.

  On the bright side. Wait, there is no bright side. Maybe one, but it’s pretty weak. If he got me I wouldn’t have to finish all the damn petty paper work. Dan would get it shoved off on him. Speaking of which, Dan was working out to be a good partner. We were going on our second year working together and I hadn’t managed to get him killed yet.

  This is really unusual for me. I mean, actually liking working with a partner. By nature I am a loaner. Partners are like training wheels on a motorcycle, seldom of any real use.

  Dan was different. Besides being pretty easy on the eye at six-two and buff, he was easy to talk to and follows directions with none of that macho crap. Maybe it was because I was smarter now than when I first started. I don’t try to prove myself at every turn. If Dan can kick their butts, I let him have at it. I cannot beat up a big guy. That is so much bull when a woman starts kicking some big guy's butt.

  Hitting hurts. Getting hit hurts even more. That is just stupid Hollywood stuff. No female cop with half a brain is going to try to duke it out with a brawler if they have a lick of sense.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Belk’s escape had taken money and inside help. He had started working on a guard that he found had a gambling habit. Belk helped feed his weakness by loaning him money when he was
in trouble. At least it seemed that way to the guard. Belk had ties to the bookie and would transfer money to cover the shortages putting him in debt to him.

  At some point he stopped covering the guard’s losses and the bookie had sent his enforcers to have a ‘chat’ with him. Desperate, the guard turned to Belk.

  This is when the pay back started. Belk would have the guard do certain favors including making sure packages got delivered without scrutiny. Belk’s agreement with the bookie was that he would pay off the guard’s debt slowly so they would keep the pressure on him.

  When the guard balked at a few things Belk wanted, Belk withheld payments so the bookie had reason to beat the hell out of the guard. It wasn’t long before whatever Belk needed, the guard made sure he got.

  **

  Belk sat in the same place every time they went to the yard for exercise. He always had two or three men that he played cards or chess with. While he was there he would dig on the wall at the base. All he needed to do was get a hole in the wall deep enough to pack it with explosives. He would dig until just before the exercise time was up then cover it over with a layer of toothpaste mixed with the dirt. It looked good enough to pass inspection as long as no one poked around on it.

  It was almost a year before he was satisfied with his work. During that time he had made arrangements through another friend to have a stolen armored truck ready to pick him up the minute he blew the hole in the wall. Other inmates knew of the impending escape and were ready to rush the hole as well. Belk made it clear if anyone got through the wall before him he would have them killed.

  Even the other inmates were smart enough to know he meant it. It was time. Belk had placed the explosives in hole and installed the blasting cap. The sign of when it was time to go was when the armored truck, painted to look like a S.W.A.T. vehicle, sounded its siren. He would blow the wall. The truck would back up with the doors open and he would jump in and off they would go.

  After that, it was every convict for himself. His circle of friends would be the first out after Belk.

  “Everyone ready,” Belk said, glancing at his watch.

  They all nodded.

  “We go in sixty seconds,” he told them.

  Sure enough, almost to the second he heard the siren.

  **

  The guards had been lulled into a sense of security by Belk and his group sitting in the same spot every day. They never caused any trouble and no one seemed to mess with them. They were not part of a gang but they were left alone nevertheless.

  The explosion rocked the entire complex. As soon as it reverberated through the prison, Belk removed his ear plugs and rushed through the hole in the wall. Within seconds he was in the back of the armored car and the door was being slammed shut.

  “Go,” was all he said.

  The truck took off before the guards could even get off the first shot. Belk looked out the back and could see men starting to run down the street as they scrambled out of the breach in the wall. He saw one man fall, probably shot, before they turned the corner and were gone. Six blocks later they pulled into a warehouse. Belk jumped into another car and off they went leaving the truck sitting there.

  They changed cars three more times before they finally felt it was safe.

  “Nice job boys,” Belk said as they crossed into Illinois, “I think we just made it. They will be closing the borders and start to search cars soon.”

  “According to the news, they have already closed the Kentucky and Ohio borders. Michigan and Illinois have to be next,” the driver said.

  “The horse is already out of the barn,” Belk said laughing.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What are you going to do?” Dan asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Nothing?”

  “Yeah Dan. What do you think I should do? Stick my head in the sand? Go hide someplace? I intend to work this just like any other case. Well, with the exception of having the FBI and DHS in the way. It should be real fun.”

  “Why is Homeland even coming in on this? I mean, he is an American and he isn’t working with some foreign country. The guy is just your average serial killer.”

  “They need the press. We are spending billions, spying on everyone and getting nothing for it except a big bill. They have to show they are doing something,” I said

  Look, I know Homeland Security may serve a purpose but we spend billions and billions on them and what do we really have to show for it? I sure don’t feel one bit safer. They are so busy watching all of us they can’t see the forest for the trees.

  “So we are going to have to deal with both of them,” Dan lamented.

  “Essentially.”

  “So who is really in charge?”

  “I intend to work it like a murderer is loose out there. They can do their thing and I intend for us to do ours,” I told him.

  “What about the captain?”

  “I had a talk with him about this very thing. He will run interference. He told me to just catch this ass and get him back in jail before he starts killing again. He also told me to watch my back but I told him I didn’t have to, that’s what you would do.”

  “Really? You told him that.”

  “No but it sounded good didn’t it?”

  “That’s rotten,” Dan said.

  “Just kidding. That is exactly what I told him.”

  “Cool.”

  “Just make sure you do,” I said, only half serious.

  **

  That afternoon I took my TR6 to a good friend who runs a repair shop. I had him install not only an alarm system but a remote starter. I may be dumb but I am not stupid. There is no use tempting fate. I knew the alarm wouldn’t do much good on a convertible, especially a British car’s top that has more gaps than Cumberland. Cumberland Gap…get it? Never mind. The point is they are really easy cars to get into if you want to.

  After I got back I checked in to find several guys and gals that I didn’t know sitting in the conference room talking to the captain. My guess was Homeland Security since they seemed to be taking themselves so seriously. I saw the captain trying to keep from rolling his eyes a time or two. I thought about going to try to rescue him but then thought about it some more. Would he rescue me or let me suffer? Suffer for sure. I decided he was on his own.

  I was thinking about getting out of there early when Dan came bounding up the stairs. My partner is like one those super balls. The kind you throw and it goes zinging off everything for about a week before it finally settles down. Dan was a lot like that. Too damned much energy.

  “Hey Bartoni. You cutting out early?”

  “Nope. Just going to get a Diet-Coke,” I lied.

  “With your purse and gun?”

  “Yeah. The machine took my money last time and didn’t give me a Coke. I thought I might have better luck shooting it if it doesn’t produce this time,” I told him.

  “Who’s in with the captain?”

  “Not sure. Homeland or FBI. My guess is Homeland. Remember the last time we teamed up with the FBI they had relaxed their travel dress code.”

  “I don’t think I like that one guy doing the talking,” Dan said.

  I was like that too. I could just look at someone and know whether I would like them or not.

  “I don’t think I like any of them. You know they are going to try to boss us around. We are simply going to go about our job as normal. We are going after Belk. He is an escaped convict that I put away for murder. They can do whatever they want as long as it doesn’t interfere with us doing our job.”

  “I hope you’re right about that. The captain doesn’t look too happy at the moment.”

  “I have the feeling none of us are going to be too happy,” I replied.

  “Looks like we are about to find out.”

  I looked over and saw the captain getting up and stomping out of the room, he crooked his finger at us as he went by. We followed him into his office.

  “Shut the door,” M
cGregor said.

  Dan closed the door and I sat down on the couch. Dan, of course, flopped down like he always does.

  “As you have probably figure out, my meeting with our brothers did not go well. It isn’t so much what they say as the way they say it,” the captain replied.

  “So what’s the deal?” I asked.

  “They will lead the investigation. Our part is to find out how he managed to get the explosives.”

  “Wait. We aren’t even going to go after the guy?” Dan said.

  “That’s what I was told.”

  “By whom?” Dan asked.

  Nice grammar huh? I would have said by ‘who’.

  “Evidently it comes down from Washington. They don’t even want the FBI in on this but it was a Federal penitentiary so they can’t do much about it,” McGregor told us.

  “Well I’m the one that put his butt here. Doesn’t that count for something?” I said.

  “Apparently not,” was his short answer.

  “Now isn’t that just special,” I grumbled.

  “Your job is to find out how he managed to get enough C4 into the jail to blow a five foot hole in the damn steel reinforced wall. Someone had to supply him with everything he needed.”

  “We’re on it boss,” I told him.

  There was no use getting upset with the captain. He wasn’t any happier than we were.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It wasn’t long before the FBI came strolling in. They seemed about as pleased as Captain McGregor. I could hear a lot of words drifting out of the conference room that were more suited for a Navy ship. Geez, and they were supposed to be professionals.

  I decided it was time for Dan and I to head to the Prison and do our part.

  “Let’s go,” I said to Dan.

  “But this is entertaining,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

  “As amusing as it may be we still have a job to do.”