Book Five - Part Ten - Ending Evil: Chapter Eight

Thursday – January 3rd

The Squad Room – 8:39 a.m.

“I have gone over the report of the shooting where we lost Savage and Sadowski yesterday. I worked it over several times to ensure those men arrested, will not be able to get out of a large lengthy sentence with any lawyer that represents them.

“Carl Macklin is working with the families on viewing and burial arrangements and once he finds out the dates and times, we’ll be notified. As to the Projects, I am hereby tripling the number of units that will patrol the area and that will remain in effect until otherwise noted. No unit will go in their alone, and with three units available 24/7, additional backup will still be available. We will not lose another man or woman, due to an oversight. Units will rotate week to week. And, to gain additional support, we will be placing employment availability for an additional thirty-eight officers.

“For those who want to attend tonight, be at Benny’s Pub at seven. You all know the drill. Now, if no one has any questions, then get out there and please—stay safe, and keep our streets safe.”

The room cleared as bodies stood, pushing chairs out of the way, making screeching noises, that, over the years have left striped skid marks. It gave the room, like those who came in and sat down five days a week, character. But on this particular movement, no voices were heard, even in slight mumbles. It was cops thinking about two of their own. It could have been one of those who walked out the door just then. Cops are a unique and different kind of brotherhood.

Baker stopped in the break room to get a cup of coffee and went from there to her office to look into her last and only unsolved missing person’s report. It would do her good to focus on something else other than yesterday.

She knew it would be a lost cause but lost or not, she would still do what had to be done. An end result might happen today, next week, next month, next year or ten years from now, but for the sake of the family, the sake of justice, and for the sheer fact she wanted to bring closure to a mother and father, and friends.

Tina Yeager. She would turn thirteen in two more months. This was really out of her jurisdiction, as Tina’s disappearance happened off the southeastern coast of Florida. She lived in Montie but went on vacation to Florida with her parents. But Tina was a hometown girl and Baker wasn’t about to wait patiently for a call from the police there she knew would probably never call.

She tapped keys to enter onto South Miami’s police website. Using her police identification number, she was able to look under missing persons, and after thirty seconds, found Tina’s picture. Still listed. Nothing new added. Baker covered other areas of the site including rapes and murders; solved and unsolved. Nothing.

The only logical conclusion to Tina’s disappearance is that if did in fact drown, the current would have pulled her body further and further away from the mainland into the Atlantic, meaning; she could have been dinner for a shark or two, or, she could have been swept along the Gulf as far west as Texas or even Mexico. If that happened, alligators and/or crocodiles would have gotten to her first. Nothing would be left of her to find … or identify.

Her phone rang.

“Baker.”

“Yes, this is Captain Ryan Collins, Houston PD.”

“Houston? What can I help you with?”

“We found a portion of an arm down here and have run it through forensic testing.”

Baker sat up in her chair.

“What did you find?”

“It wasn’t easy, but they were able to extract portions of what bone marrow they could, and although the skin, what there was left of it, was extremely rotted out, they were able to get two good samples of skin grafts to conduct the testing.”

Baker thought, no wonder J.W. moved north. Texas police are slow talkers.

“If you would, Captain Collins, I would appreciate it if you would cut to the chase.”

“I was about to. We, like most departments around the country, have a list of hits we respond to when it comes to things like this. The tests have confirmed the arm is that of a ten or eleven-year-old girl.”

“Save me some expectations here Captain, what is the girl’s name?”

“Yeager. Tina Yeager.”

Baker gasped, and her breath hitched for a moment. What are the odds.

“This will certainly be a huge relief for her parents, and for us.”

“Don’t get too excited. We’re still dredging the river in hopes to recover more body parts. You're also the last of sixteen agencies I’ve contacted.”

“I see. You won’t have to worry then. You’ve contacted the right place.”

“Give me your fax number, and I’ll forward the information on her DNA. If it matches the parents there, then we can put this one to sleep.” Baker did.

“I will see to it the parents are notified.” The fax printed out as she spoke. “I’ll make sure they have blood workups and a DNA test done and have it rushed to your labs for confirmation.

“If it matches up or not, fax me back the results. Before I forget, and I’m sorry for this, a bad habit of mine, but I often forget to mention this call is being recorded.”

Baker’s eyes rolled.

“It’s okay. I agree to it. No problem.”

“Thank you. Now if you would clearly state your title, badge number and name, please.”

Another inward sigh from her.

“Lieutenant, badge number 4751, Janis Baker-Manning, with a hyphen.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

After they were finally disconnected, Baker looked over a series of numbers bled black onto white paper. Numbers that may or may not prove to really be Tina Yeager.

Sitting away from her desk, she looked at the file, searched for the Yeager’s phone number and slowly punched in the ten-digit phone number.

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Yeager?”

Baker went on to tell her what she recently found out and explained she would drive out to her home and pick up her and her husband to go over to the crime lab where Carl Macklin, head of the Forensic and Special Investigation Unit would himself conduct the tests. She assured Mrs. Yeager the tests was a simple procedure. Baker would call Carl next and ask that he do so.

For a weeping mother on the phone, with hopes of her daughter returning home, the time began to prepare in truth for the closure that has never come.

For Baker, she prayed she wouldn’t have to make a call like this ever again.

The Rest of The Day in Montie

No one was shot. No one was robbed. No one died.

But the day wasn’t a happy one.

The Lucky’s and the Sadowski’s were in a void of nothingness. That sea of endless pain and grief that began with a fateful beginning, and with a seemingly never-ending ending.

For the Yeager’s, a long-awaited question, “Where is our little girl”, was finally answered.

Tears of grief and relief in the finally knowing, brought a husband and wife even closer and much stronger in their love and need for each other.

Lab results sent back to Texas confirmed what everyone had suspected.

There would be a private funeral arranged this day where little Tina Yeager will at long last be afforded a place to have the peace she deserves. Her parents will always continue to share that invisible hole inside each other, but over time, that hole would shrink but in truth, never wholly close. Two years later they would give birth to another daughter.

No one would know about the funerals for Larry Lucky and Mason Sadowski until the evening news.

At seven o’clock, fifty-three police officers were at Benny’s Pub, both off and on-duty. As with every police officer who loses their life, a tribute was said, shot glasses poured, then emptied, twice. As always, as the unspoken custom dictates, each glass was thrown against what is commonly known as Memory-Wall.

When night put her blanket over the city, streetlights aglow, giving the snow that had already settled into small drifts as if they were a coffin offered up by mother nature, many people would sleep easy. They would be the ones who had no idea what went on this day.

Others would lie awake throughout the night. Some would ask, “Why?” Others, thanking God the search is over.

Another day down, another one coming. Life is the final frontier.

Friday – January 4th

The Squad Room – 8:29 a.m.

“The families of Officer’s Larry Lucky and Mason Sadowski will be holing a private viewing this evening and have requested a small private service. The burial will take place tomorrow at eleven at both Morningside and Christian Belt Park Cemeteries. Those wishing to attend may do so, but it is also requested you arrive in civilian clothing.”

“What? I don’t get that,” said Phil Savage.

Satchel was back in the room. He inhaled, released his breath sharply.

“The families are distraught and shook up by what happened. Though neither side has vocalized it, I almost suspect they wouldn’t want us at the funeral at all.”

“What? Do they think it was our fault they are dead? These were our guys, Captain?”

“I hear you, Phil. I get it. But, they were also someone else’s father, husband, brother … son. I’m not going to ask any of you not to go, just be respectful, which I’m sure you are all capable of doing so.” Satchell stepped back, allowing Baker to resume the meeting.

“I will be on call this weekend if anything at all comes up. I don’t want to be left out of the loop on anything and everything that goes down.

“Streets aren’t too bad out there, but we could still have some driver situations. Again, round up any homeless out there and bring them in. Weatherman’s saying the temps could drop to ten below. Factor in the wind, you get the picture.

“Oh, and Phil? Don’t let what Captain Page said, affect you too much. The loss and grief the two families are feeling is normal. Given time, their feelings toward us will change.

They need time just as we’ll need time to get over the fact, we won’t see them walk through a set of doors or drive around town, keeping our city safe.

“Speaking of which; if no one has any questions, then get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”

As everyone filtered out, Baker walked into Satchell’s office.

“Sorry you had to cut your vacation short Satch, but welcome back.”

“I know. Goes with the badge though. It pisses me off why we, the greatest country on the planet has to resort to violence to get what we want most.”

“That’s a question we could debate the rest of our life.”

“Very true. Anyway, have a seat. I was going to call you in here.”

Sitting across from Satchell she asked, “How is Samantha doing?”

“She,” said a semi-smiling Captain, “is doing very well.”

“You look like married life is agreeing with you as well.”

“I won’t get into it but let’s just say a half of a life that went into hiding, isn’t hiding any longer.”

Satchell reached down, opened a drawer, sat up and pushed a white box across his desk to her. She reached out with her right hand and fondled the cover. It looked like the type of box you would find jewelry in. She opened it.

Inside, lay a small round button made of bronze. It was about the size of a tiny pinky fingernail.

“Okay, I give up. What is it?”

“It’s a homing signal. The day you meet Freddy, you put this on your person. We can activate the tracking process just a few minutes before you two are face-to-face.

“That little device will alert us to the exact position you’re in at all times, just like a GPS would. When you get to where your destination spot will be, be it the front or back of the cottage, left or right side, we can at least have units in place at the very least, cover any and all exits, either by land or water. In the event you,”

“It’s okay, Satch. I got it. We both know this is a fifty-fifty deal. Freddy believes the same thing I imagine. Either I come out of this alive, or he does.”

“That’s what bothers me about this whole damn thing. You’ll be offered a flak-jacket to wear under your clothing. It will come with full sleeves and a pair of flak-pants. Depending on the weapon he uses and the power behind it; with this type of protection, other than a head shot, it should keep you alive.”

“Close range won’t help me any if that ends up being the case, Satch. Remember, we’ll each have a .38 Smith and Wesson, and a Bowie knife.”

“Yeah, Russian Roulette. Like I said before, I didn’t like this then, and I like it even less, now. At least with this device, we can at least contain Freddy.”

“What if for some reason he doesn’t show and changes his mind? I doubt that will happen, but what if?”

“That would make me extremely happy. If he doesn’t show, you can let us know by saying so. It also has a microphone the size of a pin needle inside. If he does show, say something to indicate his presence. It’s a one-way transmitter.”

“Cool. What did you do, go online and buy this thing?”

“It was something Carl and Huey put together in one of their lab units.”

“Huh? Thought they dealt in evidence, not advanced technology. How much do they know, Satch?”

“Just enough. Don’t worry. No one knows what is going to happen, really happen but for you and me.”

“And Ed. I finally told him. I still don’t know how to explain all this to Stevie. Right now, with the state games going on, I didn’t think this was the best time to tell him, and have him on edge during the playoffs, that he might be minus a mother.”

Satchell nodded.

“Understood. Let’s say for now the bases are covered. Come the day of deliverance, I will have everyone notified and the entire area surrounded, and that includes the lake and the airport. I promise you; he won’t slip by us this time.”

“We still have plenty of time for this, Satch, but I have a place to put this where I won’t forget when the time comes. Trust me; I’m counting down the days. All seventy-one of them, counting today.”